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Lawrence,  Margaret  Oliver 

Woods,  1813-1901. 
Reminiscences  of  the  life 

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[ 

Digitized  by 

the  Internet  Archive 

in  2014 

https://archive.org/details/reminiscencesoflOOIawr 


TAKEN  EARLY  IN  THE  EIGHTIES. 


REMINISCENCES 


The  Life  and  Work 


EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  Jr. 


/ 

BY  HIS  MOTHEE, 
MARGARET  WOODS  h.AWRENGE. 


Not  to  be  Ministered  unto,  but  to  Minister  " 


New  York:       Chicago:  Toronto: 


jfleminQ      IRcvell  Company, 

Publishers  of  Evangelical  Literature. 


Copyright  1900 
By  Margaret  Woods  Lawrence 


LINOTYPED  AND  PRINTED  BY  J.  J.  ARAKELYAN 
295  CONGRESS  STREET,  BOSTON 


DEDICATED 


AFTER  ST.  JOHN,  THE  BELOVED: 

'■'■Unto  you,  young  ■men, 
Because  ye  are  strong.^'' 

As  I  recall  my  son's  deep  interest  in  young  men,  my  heart  goes 
out  to  them  with  inexpressible  longings  that  in  so  far  as  he  followed 
Christ  they  may  walk  in  his  steps.  In  one  of  his  sermons  to  them, 
he  said: — 

"Your  strength,  young  men,  furnishes  a  double  reason  for  the 
Gospel's  appeal  to  you.  When  the  ministry  of  Jesus  began,  he 
needed  the  strength  of  young  men,  and  gathered  twelve  of  them 
about  him.    That  was  the  first  Young  Men's  Christian  Association. 

"The  coming  century  belongs  to  you,  if  you  will  take  it  for  Christ; 
but  you  must  rescue  it  from  peculiar  dangers,  and  all  your  strength 
will  be  needed.  We  are  on  the  eve  of  revolutionary  changes.  Nay, 
we  are  now  passing  through  them.  Venerable  structures  may  be 
overthrown.  The  very  foundations  may  seem  shaken.  Industrial, 
social,  doctrinal  changes  are  imminent.  Out  of  darkness,  confusion, 
chaos,  it  may  be  your  part  to  bring  light,  harmony  and  love  in  a 
new  world.  You  must  fight  the  battle  of  God's  truth.  Through 
you  the  victory  must  be  won  for  the  universal  fatherhood  of  God, 
the  equal  brotherhood  of  man,  the  supreme  lordship  of  Christ." 

If  he  could  speak  to  you  now,  this  would  surely  be  Edward's 
message.  In  his  behalf,  therefore,  to  you,  young  men,  these  Remin- 
iscences are  dedicated  by  his  mourning  yet  grateful  mother, 

MARGARET  WOODS  LAWRENCE. 

Linden  Home,  Marblehead. 


What  practice,  howsoe'er  expert 

In  fitting  aptest  words  to  things, 

Or  voice,  the  richest  toned  that  sings, 
Hath  power  to  give  thee  as  thou  wert? 

In  words,  Hke  weeds,  I'll  wrap  me  o'er, 
Like  coarsest  clothes  against  the  cold; 
But  that  large  grief  that  these  enfold 

Is  given  in  outline  and  no  more. 

In  Memoriant. 


PREFATORY. 


The  preparation  of  this  Memorial  of  my  only  son  has  been  a 
sacred  task  of  mingled  joy  and  sorrow.  It  has  also  been  a  work  of 
peculiar  delicacy  and  difficulty.  There  has  not,  indeed,  been  any  lack 
of  material ;  the  difficulty  has  rather  been  to  select  from  its  super- 
abundance. For  I  have  had  not  only  my  own  journal,  kept  from  his 
infancy,  but  Edward's  journal  also,  commenced  as  soon  as  he  could 
write,  with  his  letters  from  the  earliest  to  the  latest  date,  and,  in  ad- 
dition, printed  gatherings  relating  to  him  and  his  work;  all  of 
which,  mother-like,  I  have  carefully  preserved. 

I  have,  however,  felt  great  hesitation  as  to  the  personal  element 
necessarily  introduced  in  order  properly  to  portray  his  character; 
and  it  is  only  as  moved  by  the  urgency  of  friends  that  I  have  ven- 
tured to  insert  certain  portions.  There  are  those  with  strong  claims 
on  me,  whose  desire  for  the  fullest  reminiscences  I  have  been  unwill- 
ing to  disappoint.  And,  as  I  cannot  expect  the  so-called  public  to 
be  interested  in  reading  such  a  Memorial,  it  has  seemed  unnecessary 
to  concern  myself  about  its  criticisms. 

The  recollection  of  Edward's  extreme  modesty  at  first  added  to 
my  hesitation  as  to  the  full  portrayal  asked  of  me.  But  this  modesty 
did  not  prevent  his  conceiving  and  undertaking  large  plans  for  doing 
good — plans  seemingly  broken  up  by  his  early  departure.  And  sure 
I  am  that  he  would  willingly  have  consented  to  any  record  of  his 
life  which  might  stimulate  young  men  to  broaden  and  carry  on  the 
great  work  for  humanity  and  for  God  in  which  he  was  so  enlisted, 
heart  and  soul.  Nor  was  he  one  to  oppose  what  would  bring  comfort 
to  those  who  loved  him. 

It  need  not  be  said  that,  in  reviewing  the  past,  memories  have 
surged  over  me  like  a  flood,  at  times  well  nigh  overwhelming  me. 
Never  was  the  relation  between  mother  and  son  more  close  and  ten- 
der. That  he,  on  whom  I  leaned,  should  be  taken  from  me,  was  a 
thought  that  never  occurred  to  either  of  us.  The  blow  came  so  sud- 
denly as  to  give  little  opportunity  for  last  words.  And  it  has  been 
my  constant  regret  that  I  had  not  ascertained  what  might  have  been 
his  wishes  with  regard  to  many  matters,  in  case  of  any  such  possible 
event.  But  in  the  heart-aching  review  of  the  past,  Edward's  own 
words  have  all  along  brought  me  peculiar  consolation. 

I  cannot  refrain  from  a  warm  acknowledgement  to  those  friends 
who  have  given  me  encouragement  and  help.  And  more  than  I  can 
tell  am  I  indebted  to  Mr.  James  Buckham  and  Miss  Julia  E.  Ward 
for  their  unwearying  counsel  and  assistance.  I  only  wish  I  could 
have  done  my  work  more  worthily. 

MARGARET  WOODS  LAWRENCE. 

Linden  Home,  May,  1900. 


Not  him  who  hath  the  largest  store 
Ingathered  of  Hfe's  wealth  I  praise, 
But  him  who  loveth  mankind  more 
Than  treasure-trove  of  all  his  days; 

Who  from  the  world-wide  Brotherhood 
Withholdeth  naught  of  heart  or  brain, — 
Yea,  counteth  it  the  highest  good 
To  give  himself  for  others'  gain. 

— ^James  Buckham. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Edward's  Birthplace — His   First  Sorrow — Quaint  Child  Fancies  

Lost  in  Boston— A  Gift  for  Jesus  Christ — His  Father  Abroad  for 
a  Year — Various  Visits  with  His  Mother — A  Night  at  Whittier's 
—Early  Preaching— Quick  Sympathies— His  First  Letters— Self- 
Discipline— His  Birthday  Sister — Theological    Perplexities  A 

Young  Missionary — An  Appeal  to  Congress.    .       .       .  i 

CHAPTER  H. 

Removal  to  East  Windsor  Hill — His  Father's  Inauguration — His 
Books — Learning  by  Questions — His  Music — Letter  from  Mrs. 
Watson — Familiarity  with  the  Theological  Students — Letter 
from  Rev.  Moses  T.  Runnells — His  Journal — Letters  to  "Merry's 
Museum" — Letter  from  Miss  Anable — Journal  Extracts.    .  lo 

CHAPTER  HL 

A  Trip  to  the  Old  Bay  State— Visit  to  Mt.  Holyoke  Seminary— Let- 
ter from  Mrs.  Helen  M.  Gulliver — Home  Life  and  Amusements 
at  East  Windsor  Hill — The  Chest  of  Tools — Uncle  Leonard — 
Santa  Claus— Debates  in  the  "Clio" — Visits  New  York  City  and 
Sees  the  "Great  Eastern" — Goes  Away  to  School  at  East  Hamp- 
ton—Homesickness— Joins  the  "Adelphi" — Spends  a  Year  in 
Special  Studies  at  Chandler  Scientific  School — Acquaintance 
with  William  North  Rice,  and  Letter  from  Him — Letter  from 
Mrs.  Rice — Edward's  Studies  and  Reading — Interest  in  National 
Affairs — Joins  the  Church  19 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Serious  Sickness — Goes  to  Phillips  Academy — Debates  and  Studies 
— "Concerning  Clothes" — Visit  at  Haverhill — Revival  in  the 
School — Silver  Wedding  at  Dingle  Side — Oratorical  Honors — 
War  Excitement — Desires  to  be  a  Volunteer — Tributes  of  Miss 
Russell,  Mrs.  Abbott,  Mrs.  Nichols,  Dr.  Taylor  and  Dr.  Pea- 
body.   30 

CHAPTER  V. 

Sets  Forth  for  Yale — Passes  Examinations — The  "Grand  Rush" — 
Mission  School  Work — Trouble  with  his  Eyes — Dr.  Cheever's 
Tribute — Tribute  from  Prof.  Wright — Freshmen  and  Sopho- 


viii 


CONTENTS. 


mores— Visit  to  Washington— A  Turning  Point  and  Wise  Deci- 
sion—Dedicates Himself  to  the  Ministry— Testimony  of  Prof 
Northrup— A  Trip  West— His  Sister  Meta's  Marriage— Comple- 
tion of  College  Course— Tributes  from  Yale  Men.    .      .  41 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Visit  in  Orford,  N.  H.-^-Tribute  of  Miss  Martha  Lawrence — Goes  to 
Princeton  for  a  Year — Inauguration  of  Pres.  McCosh — Visits 
Home  and  New  Haven — A  Student  Friend  Attempts  Suicide — 
Schoolhouse  Preaching — Sermon  before  the  Class — Visit  from 
His  Parents  at  Princeton — Letters  from  a  Classmate  and  from 
Prof.  Green — Receives  a  License  to  Preach — Visits  His  Sister 
Meta  in  Brooklyn — The  Farewells  57 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Sails  by  Steamship  "India" — Impressions  of  the  Sea — His  Marine 
Mail — A  Classmate's  Letter — Lands  at  Glasgow — From  Edin- 
burgh to  Rotterdam — Goes  to  Wurzburg  to  Study  the  German 
Language — Sad  Tidings — Munich — Tramp  through  the  Tyrols — 
Vienna  and  Leipzig — Thence  to  Halle — First  Meeting  with  Tho- 
luck — University  Life  at  Halle — His  Sister  Meta's  Failing  Health 
— News  of  Her  Death — "Asleep  and  Awake" — An  Accident — 
Tholuck's  Sympathy — His  Letters  Home — Growing  Intimacy 
with   Tholuck  '  66 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  Walking  Tour — Accounts  of  the  War — A  Fortnight  with  Prof, 
and  Frau  Tholuck  in  the  Hartz  Mountains — Visits  Dresden  and 
Leipzig — Gewandhaus  Concert — Earnest  Work  at  Halle — The 
Tholuck  Jubilee — Letter  from  Rev.  Lysander  Dickerman,  the 
Egyptologist — Call  on  Tischendorff — Prefers  the  Ministry  to  a 
Professorship — Trip  with  Dr.  Dickerman  to  Italy  and  thence 
through  Pisa  to  Geneva — Edward  Passes  a  Few  Weeks  in  Gene- 
va— The  Passion  Play  at  Oberammergau — Tribute  from  Father 
McSweeney — Baden  Baden — Pastor  Blumenhardt's  and  Fraulein 
Seckendorf's  Establishments — The  Tubingen  Professors.    .  83 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Edward's  Mother  and  Sister  Visit  Scotland— They  Spend  the  Winter 
with  Him  in  Berlin — A  Call  from  U.  S.  Minister,  George  Ban- 
croft— Letters  from  Wm.  A.  Smith  and  Rev.  Alfred  Myers— Am- 
sterdam— Leyden — Prof.  Kuenen — Brussels — Paris — Assembly  at 
Versailles — From  Paris  to  London — The  Midnight  Mission — An 
Evening  with  Rev.  James  Martineau — A  Sermon  from  George 
MacDonald— An  Evening  at  his  House— At  Oxford— Through 
the  Lake  Country— Long  Walks  in  the  Scotch  Highlands— Glen- 
coe — Fingal's  Cave — lona  100 


CONTENTS. 


ix 


CHAPTER  X. 

Mother  and  Son  Sail  for  New  York — At  Home  Again — Quiet  Days 
of  Home  Work — Neighborhood  Preaching — Mr.  Richard  Palmer 
Waters — Letter  from  Rev.  James  M.  Whiton — Letter  from  Miss 
Tracy — Tutorship  at  Yale — Call  to  Church  at  Champlain,  N.  Y. 
— Declined — Call  to  Champlain  Still  Urged — Finally  Accepted — ■ 
A  Western  Tour — His  Father  Supplies  During  Western  Trip — 
Letter  from  Mr.  Stetson — Edward  Forms  Acquaintance  of  Rev. 
and  Mrs.  Francis  B.  Hall  of  Plattsburg — Long  Walks — Christ- 
mas Cheer — Union  Meetings  with  the  Methodists — Temperance 
Crusade — Meets  Rev.  Francis  G.  Peabody,  now  of  Harvard 
Divinity  School — Letter  from  Prof.  Peabody.     .      .  .113 

CHAPTER  XL 

Edward's  Father  a  Delegate  to  the  Peace  Congress  at  Geneva — On  his 
Return  Edward  Visits  Home — Gets  Up  a  Musical  Entertain- 
ment— Back  in  Champlain — Letter  to  His  Sister — Fourth  of 
July  Address  at  Clinton  Prison — Call  from  Malone — School  for 
French  People — Rothe's  Ethics — A  Call  from  Poughkeepsie — A 
Twelve  Days'  Trip  among  the  Adirondacks — Acceptance  of  the 
Poughkeepsie  Call — Good-byes  in  Champlain — Lawrence  Stet- 
son 124 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

First  Sunday  in  Poughkeepsie — Diverse  Beliefs  and  Opinions  in  the 
Church— A  Bad  Fall — Call  at  Vassar — A  Pleasant  Christmas 
Surprise — Birthday  Visit  from  His  Sister — Sermon  at  Vassar — 
Attends  the  Beecher  Advisory  Council— Letter  on  His  Mother's 
Birthday — Letter  from  Mr.  John  Wilkinson — Vacation  at 
Marblehead,  and  Trip  to  White  Mountains — Centennial  Exposi- 
tion 134 


CHAPTER  XHL 

Sickness  of  Edward's  Sister — A  Visit  Home — German  Classes — Ex- 
tracts from  Journal  and  Letters — Trip  to  Vermont  and  Northern 
New  York — Champlain — The  Saguenay — Burlington — Letter 
from  Prof.  Moses  Coit  Tyler— Back  at  Poughkeepsie — American 
Board  at  Providence— Letter  from  Mr.  Guilford  Dudley — From 
Mrs.  Dudley  144 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Indebtedness  of  the  Church — A  Church  Fair — The  Rubaiyat  of  Omar 
Khayyam — Temperance  Labors — An  Essay  on  Spinoza — Letter 
from  Mrs.  Mott — Visit  to  Mother  and  Sister,  Heald's  Hygeian 
Home — Edward  Kimball,  the  Debt-Raiser— Debt  Removed — 
Gives  up  His  California  Trip — Visits  Princeton — Gift  from  Ger- 
man Class — Letter  to  the  Clover  Leaf — Mother  and  Sister  Visit 


X 


CONTENTS. 


Him — His  Sister's  Jubilee — Letter  from  His  Father — Visit  at 
Linden  Home — Call  on  Whittier — At  Cambridge  Commence- 
ment— Adirondack   Trip  157 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Five  Minutes  Sermon — The  Winter  Home — Family  with  Edward — 
His  Letters  to  His  Father  and  Mother  at  Clifton  Springs — Fu- 
neral Fees — The  Sistine  Madonna — Freedom  from  Debt — Jubilee 
— His  Cabinet  Organ — Charity  Organization  Society — Letters 
from  Poughkeepsie  Clergymen — Overture  to  Tannhauser — Belle- 
vue — Letters  from  Poughkeepsie  Friends — Letter  from  Irving 
Elting  171 

CHAPTER  XVL 

Sermon  on  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals — Call  on  John  Bur- 
roughs— Description  of  a  Storm — Open  Air  Service — The  Adi- 
rondacks — The  Nannie  O — Thrilling  Adventures — The  Raquette 
River  by  Moonlight— Letter  from  Mrs.  White  of  Brooks  Semin- 
ary— Edward's  Address  at  the  C.  O.  S.  Public  Meeting — Ser- 
mons on  Charily  and  Pauperism — Letter  to  His  Birthday  Mother 
— Edwards  on  Original  Sin — Trip  of  the  New  York  and  Brook- 
lyn Associations  to  the  Catskills — Mohonk  and  the  Smillie 
Brothers  179 


CHAPTER  XVn. 

Illness  of  His  Father — Edward  takes  Him  to  New  York  on  His  Way 
to  Binghamton — Tower  Thoughts — Second  Open  Air  Service — 
Letter  from  a  Bellevue  Friend — Walking  Club — Vacation  in 
Marblehead — Walk  Around  Cape  Ann — Bar  Harbor — Visit  and 
Letter  from  Mrs.  A.  D.  T.  Whitney — Return  to  Work — "Poor 
Bullen" — American  Board  and  State  Association — Progressive 
Revelation — Letter  from  Col.  A.  B.  Lawrence — From  Mr.  James 
Phillips — Mr.  Phillips'  Work — Vassar  Institute  Meetings — His 
Family  with  Him  Again — Sickness  of  the  Family — Letter  from 
Mr.  Donald — Tribute  to  Mr.  Donald — Letters  Home  from  the 
Adirondacks — From  Mrs.  James  191 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A  Visit  from  His  Sister — Union  Thanksgiving  Sermon — Letter  from 
Mrs.  Garfield — From  James  Phillips — From  Benson  Lossing — 
Prayer  Meeting  Topics — Easter— Vassar  Institute  Address — 
Adirondack  Letters — Letter  from  Father  McSweeny — From 
Mrs.  Brainard — His  Father  and  Mother  go  to  Hamilton  Mag- 
netic Institute — Union  Watch  Night — Letter  from  Mrs.  Ban- 
field — From  Mr.  Henry  V.  Pelton — Wedding  Anniversary  and 
Letter — Home  Missionary  Convention — Proposal  from  Plymouth 
Church,  Syracuse  208 


CONTENTS. 


xi 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Plattsburg — Champlain — Adirondacks  —  Summons  Home  —  Funeral 
of  His  Father — Letter  from  Mrs.  Byrnes — Comforting  Words  to 
His   Mother  222 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Edward  Looks  Over  the  Ground  at  Syracuse — Accepts  Call — Sorrow 
at  Poughkeepsie — Letters  from  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Cate — Preaches 
Union  Thanksgiving  Sermon  at  Plymouth  Church — Newspaper 
Comments — Letter  from  Mr.  Ewers — Edward  Secures  House 
and  Settles  His  Family  There — Installation — Letter  from  Rev. 
Dr.  Beard — Inaugural  Sermon — Letters  from  Brother  Clergymen 
in  Syracuse— Congregational  Club  of  Central  New  York — Trib- 
ute from  Prof.  Tyler  of  Cornell — Edward's  Mother  Returns 
Home — Letters  from  Miss  Dalton — From  Rev.  Ezekiel  Mundy — 
Pompey  Hill — Bi-Centennial  Address  at  Marblehead — Trip  into 
Maine — Letter  from  Mrs.  Crosby — Salvation  Army — Fraternity 
with  Jewish  Church — Letter  from  Rabbi  Guttman — From  Rev. 
A.  E.  Winship — Interest  in  Children  230 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  Bachelors'  Club — A  Bachelor's  Tribute — Letter  from  Prof.  J. 
Scott  Clark — Tributes  from  Church  Members — Frank  Luckey — 
Off  for  the  Adirondacks — Free  Sittings — Temperance  and  City 
Missions — His  Sister's  Wedding — Letter  from  Miss  Aria  Hunt- 
ington— Address  on  Browning  by  Archdeacon  Farrar — Criticism 
of  Drummond — His  Mother's  Correspondence  with  Louisa  Pay- 
son — Elizur  Wright — Announcement  of  Resignation — Letter 
from  Rev.  Dr.  Packard — Edward's  Desire  to  Study  the  Mission 
Field — Letter  from  Mr.  Chas.  D.  B.  Mills — Introductions  to 
Catholic  Missions — Letters  from  Rev.  and  Mrs.  Eastman — His 
Mother's  Preparation    for   His   Voyage  246 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

The  Parting — Chicago — Polygamy — Scene  of  Helen  Hunt's  "Ramo- 
na" — Chinese  Emigrants — Letter  to  Miss  Leyden — Passages 
from  the  Marine  Mail — Life  on  Shipboard — At  a  Japanese  Club 
—Letter  to  Mr.  Ewers — Inland  Sea  of  Japan — Letter  from 
Shanghai — Among  the  Chinese — In  Cairo — Ceylon — Letter 
from  Calcutta— High  Caste  Sweetmeats — Visit  to  Col.  Olcott — 
Meets  Representative  Theosophists — Hospitality  of  Dr.  and  Mrs. 
Dennis  at  Beirut — Letter  from  Mrs.  Dennis — from  Rev. 
Lyman  Bartlett  267 

CHAPTER  XXIIL 

En  route  for  Palestine — Meets  George  Constantine  and  His  Cousin 
Clara  Lawrence — With  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Crawford  at  Brousa — Let- 


CONTENTS. 


ter  from  Mrs.  Crawford — May  Meetings  in  Constantinople — 
Mission  Station  Reports — To  Jaffa  and  Jerusalem — Letter  from 
Rev.  S.  F.  Wright — Mother  and  Son  Meet  in  Hamburg — Visits 
to  Old  Friends — Letter  from  Fran  Louise  Kloer — Passages  from 
Dutch  Letters — Berlin — Letter  from  Rev.  E.  G.  Porter — Switzer- 
land and  Mt.  Rigi — Paris — Scotland — Letter  from  Rev.  Mr. 
Young — Scotch  Friends — Church  Congress  at  Wolverhampton — 
In  London — Letter  from  Miss  Reynolds — Sociological  and  Mis- 
sionary Investigations — Homeward  Bound — Accounts  of  Mis- 
sionary Tour — The  Rupee  Story — From  Rev.  Dr.  Ecob — Letters 
Concerning  Modern  Missions  in  the  East  284 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Supplj'ing  at  Sing  Sing — Makes  His  Summer  Home  at  Ossinning  In- 
stitute— Birth  of  His  Nephew — Commencement  and  Class  Re- 
union at  Yale — Letter  from  Mrs.  Louisa  Seymour  Houghton — 
Thoughts  of  Future  Work — The  Emerson  Summer  .Schoo]  at 
Martha's  Vineyard — From  Principal  Greenough — From  Prof. 
Dwight — Preaches  in  Poughkeepsie — Letter  from  Pres.  Emerson 
— Baptizes  His  Nephew — Visit  to  Prison  Warden — Mrs.  Marcus 
Spring  and  Her  Letters — Talk  on  Theosophists  at  Vassar  In- 
stitute—President Harrison's  Inauguration — Mother  and  Son  in 
Brooklyn — Dines  with  Prof.  Prentiss  and  Daughter — Letter  from 
the    Professor — Centennial  of  British  Evacuation.     .      .  299 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Correspondence  with  Arethusa  Hall — Concerning  a  Mutual  Basis  of 
Faith  31S 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A  Call  from  Baltimore — He  Decides  to  Look  Over  the  Field — Letter 
from  Mr.  D.  M.  Henderson — Minute  Adopted  by  the  Session — 
Letters  from  Sing  Sing  Friends — From  Rev.  Edwin  Fairley — A 
Baltimore  Excursion — Begins  Work  in  Baltimore — Acquaintance 
with  the  Nunns — Special  Work  of  Miss  Elizabeth  Lowry  Nunn 
—He  Announces  Acceptance  of  Call — Vacation  in  the  Adiron- 
dacks — Theodore  Weld — Returns  to  Work — Harvest  Home  Ser- 
vice— American  Board  at  New  York — Edward's  Installation — 
The  Reception — Speech  from  Judge  Brown — Letter  from  Mr. 
W.  H.  Morris — Thanksgiving  Subject.  Civil  Service  Reform — 
Christmas  Festival— Dedication  of  W.  C.  T.  U.  Building,  and  Let- 
ters from  W.  C.  T.  U.  Workers  326 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Busy  Days — Johns  Hopkins  University  Friends — Letter  from  Mrs. 
Metcalf — Deacon  Cressy  and  His  Letter— Letters  from  Johns 
Flopkins  Students — From  Dr.  F.  E.  Clark — Edward's  Work  in 
Socialism — A  Nationalist's  Letter— Letter  from  Mr.  Hoadley — 


CONTENTS. 


xiii 


Church  Anniversary — Conference  of  Charities  and  Corrections — 
Letters  from  John  Glenn  and  Miss  Richmond — Editorial  from 
the  Charitirs  Record — Letter  from  Mrs.  Dean  Griffin — Resolu- 
tion Relating  to  Dr.  Parkhurst — Letter  by  Mr.  J.  M.  Casanowiez, 
a  Russian — Letter  from  Dr.  De  Forest  345 

CHAPTER  XXVIIL 

Edward  Preaches  in  Old  South  Church,  Boston — Address  at  Concord 
Reformatory — Visit  at  Dr.  Hamlin's  and  Letter  from  Him — The 
Adirondacks,  z'ia  Burlington — Among  Pennsylvania  Hills — Let- 
ter from  H.  M.  Alden — Memorial  Service  for  Whittier — Board 
Meetings  at  Minneapolis — Letter  from  Mr.  Hammond — From 
John  Adams — Dakota  and  Nebraska — Letters  from  His  Young 
Men — His  Feeling  About  a  Degree — "Snare"  Sermons — Dedica- 
tion Sermon  at  Syracuse — Letter  from  Mr.  George  P.  Morris — 
From  Rev.  H.  A.  Bridgman — Paper  on  "Reading"  before  Wash- 
ington Conference  of  Churches  365 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Christianity  and  Culture — The  Labor  Problem — The  Gospel  Wagon 
—The  Old  Clock  for  Linden  Home — Adirondacks — Chattolane 
Springs — His  Mother  at  Lakewood — Yale  Lectures  on  Missions 
— Bulletins  and  Illustrated  Sermons — Readings  from  Sidney 
Lanier — Birthday  Letter  to  His  Sister — Letter  from  His  Mother 
— Papers  before  the  New  Jersey  Association — Edward's  Connec- 
tion with  Changes  in  the  American  Board — Meeting  of  the 
Board  in  Minneapolis — Memorial  Presented  at  New  Jersey  Asso- 
ciation— Resolution  Adopted  at  Worcester — Testimonies  of  Rev. 
Drs.  Creegan,  C.  H.  Richards,  Patton,  and  Amory  Bradford.  387 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

Convention  of  Maryland  Christian  Endeavor  Union — Address  on 
Missions  at  Union  Theological  Seminary — Letter  from  Edwin 
Fairley — From  Dr.  Dennis — From  Rev.  Mr.  Bliss — Edward 
Preaches  at  the  Penitentiary — Lectures  at  Beloit  College — Letter 
from  Prof.  Blaisdell — From  Pres.  Eaton — At  New  Jersey  Asso- 
ciation— Organizes  Hawley  Memorial  Church — Arrows — Poem 
by  R.  W.  Gilder — Christian  Endeavor  Convention — Miss  Nunn 
Visits  Linden  Home — Edward's  North  Carolina  Tramp.     .  406 

I 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Preaches  at  Worcester — Letter  from  Rev.  Mr.  Hosmer — Letter  from 
Dr.  Dwight  W.  Clapp — A  Few  Days  at  Marblehead — Addresses 
on  Systematic  Giving  and  Systematic  Bible  Study — A  Sixty 
Miles  Walk — Episcopal  Convention — "Philanthropic  Baltimore" 
— "How  the  Other  Half  Lives" — Tribute  from  the  Editor  of  the 
CnViV— Letter  from  a  Nationalist— From  E.  W.  Blatchford — 
Bible  Institute — Letter  from  Pres.  Harper — Letters  from  Broth- 


xiv 


CONTENTS. 


er  Clergymen— The  Eclectic  Club— Letter  from  Rev.  Dr.  Scholl 
—Bu  letins— Passage  from  "Our  Paper"— From  the  Congrega- 
tional Index  Why  I  am  a  Congregationalist"— Moody  and 
bankey- Mr.  Stickney— "A  Loyal  Congregationalist."       .  426. 

CHAPTER  XXXIL 

The  Winans  Tenements— Edward's  Betrothal  to  Miss  Nunn— The 
"Deestnck  Skule"— Edward  Makes  His  Residence  in  the  Tene- 
ments—Commencem.ent  of  the  Winans  Tenement  Work— Letter 
from  Mr.  Thomson— The  Art  Loan  Exhibition— Appointed 
Member  of  Advisory  Committee  of  Congress  of  Missions— Trip 
to  World's  Fair— Returns  and  Preaches  on  Fair— Letter  from- 
Rev.  Maltbie  D.  Babcock— Last  Adirondack  Trip— Letter  from 
Rev.  Mr.  Davis  

CHAPTER  XXXHL 

Preaches  at  Beverly— Letter  from  Miss  Tracy— Preaches  for  Two- 
Sundays  at  Marblehead  Neck— Free  Talks  at  Crocker  Park- 
Letter  from  Mr.  Frank  Broughton— From  Mrs.  Whitcomb— 
From  Mrs.  Caroline  E.  Tyler— From  Rev.  J.  M.  Marston— 
From  Mrs.  Shannon— From  Mrs.  Helen  M.  Gulliver— From  James 
Buckham— From  Miss  Julia  E.  Ward— From  Nathan  Haskell 
Dole— Edward's  Mother  and  Sister  and  Miss  Nunn  Visit  the 
World's  Fair— Plans  for  Miss  Nunn— Emerson  College.     .  454 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

Sermons  on  Employers  and  the  Employed— Letter  from  Mr.  Hender- 
son— From  Dr.  Steiner — Address  before  Johns  Hopkins  Univer- 
sity Y.  M.  C.  A.— Reports  by  a  Student  and  by  Dean  Griffin— Ed- 
ward Attends  American  Board  Meeting  at  Worcester — Letter 
from  Mrs.  Prof.  Cutler— From  Prof.  E.  P.  Sanford— From  Rev. 
George  W.  Wood  461 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Edward  Reaches  Linden  Home— The  Exchange  at  Roxbury—Commit- 
tee  from  Manchester,  N.  H.,  Church  Present — Edward  Called  to 
Manchester — He  Visits  the  Ground — Letter  from  Manchester — 
Letters  from  Delegates — Letter  from  Prof.  Griffin — From  a 
Manchester  Paper — Sketch  by  the  Parish  Visitor — Letters  from 
Rev.  Dr.  Clapp  467 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

First  Symptons  of  Illness — Note  from  Miss  Tyson — Letter  from 
Deacon  Cressy — Pulpit  Supplies  Secured  for  the  Next  Sunday — 
Mrs.  Nunn's  Visit— Letter  from  Edward  Nunn— From  Mrs.  Smith 
— John  Hopkins  Surgeon  Called  in  Consultation — Removal  to 
Hospital  and  Operation — Arrival  of  Dear  Ones — Letters  and 


CONTENTS. 


XV 


Telegrams — Letters  from  Rev.  Dr.  Spalding — Words  of  Ed- 
ward's Nurse — Letter  from  a  Friend — From  a  Johns  Hopkins 
Student — Through  Conflict  to  Resignation — Dr.  Halsted's  Testi- 
mony— Dr.  Bloodgood's.  476- 

CHAPTER  XXXVIL 

Words  of  Sympathy  from  a  Catholic  Priest,  Father  Starr — Letters 

from    Manchester — Question    of    Burial    Place  Baltimore 

Chosen — Body  Embalmed  and  Placed  in  Church  Parlor — Letter 
from  Miss  Amelia  Knipp — The  Funeral — The  Flowers — 
Clergymen's  Addresses — At  the  Grave — Extract  from  Sermon  of 
Rev.  Hiram  Vrooman — Tribute  from  James  Buckham.      .  487 

CHAPTER  XXXVin. 

List  of  Resolutions  Received — Manchester  Church  to  Baltimore 
Church — Personal  Tributes — From  Rev.  Edward  T.  Root — ^John 
Haynes,  a  Johns  Hopkins  Student — Memorial  Service  of  Y.  P.  S. 
C.  E.  of  Baltimore  Church — From  Junior  Endeavor  Society — 
From  Primary  Department — From  Plymouth  Y.  P.  S.  C.  E., 
Syracuse — Poughkeepsie  Memorial  Service — Memorial  of  Syra- 
cuse Browning  Club — Remarks  at  Sing  Sing  Memorial  Ser- 
vice.  497 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

The  Bereaved  Mother  Finds  Relief  in  Work  of  Hand  and  Heart — 
Edward's  Interpretation  of  Graciousness — Birthday  Song — Let- 
ter from  Mr.  Miiller  of  Berlin — Crumbs  of  Comfort — The 
Postman's  Sympathy — Letter  from  Prof.  Adams — His  Remarks 
to  the  Seminary — Remarks  of  Rev.  Dr.  Creegan  at  Manchester 
Church — Tribute  from  Rev.  Mr.  Bacon  S06 

CHAPTER  XL  - 

Severe  Sickness  of  Edward's  Mother — Revision  of  His  Missionary 
Lectures — Tablet  in  Baltimore  Church — Letters  from  Rev. 
Joseph  B.  Stitt,  Rev.  Dr.  S.  M.  Newman  and  Rev.  D.  M.  Beach 
— Edward's  Sermon  Case — Erection  of  Tablet  in  Poughkeepsie 
Church — Lawrence  Memorial  Association  and  Lawrence  House 
— Letter  from  Rev.  Thomas  Young — The  New  Lawrence  House 
— Union  of  the  First  Congregational  and  Associate  Reformed 
Churches,  Baltimore — Gifts  to  the  New  Lawrence  House — "He 
Never   Comes."  512 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Frontispiece.    Edward  and  His  Mother. 

No.   2.  Eddie  on  a  Festal  Occasion. 

No.   3.  Edward  in  His  Boyhood. 

No.    4.  Linden  Home. 

No.   5.  Edward's  Sister  Meta. 

No.   6.  Edward  as  a  Student  Abroad. 

No.    7.  Edward  A.  Lawrence,  D.  D. 

No.   8.  A  Class  in  the  Lawrence  House. 

No.   9.  Edward  in  His  Ministry. 

No.  10.  The  Lawrence  House. 


INTRODUCTION. 


No  one,  I  am  sure,  who  was  privileged  to  witness  the  peculiarly 
close  and  tender  relationship  subsisting  between  Edward  A.  Law- 
rence and  his  mother  can  read  these  pages  without  thankful  recogni- 
tion of  the  fitness  of  the  hand  that  was  chosen,  in  the  providence  of 
God,  to  record  the  earthly  life  of  his  beloved  servant.  The  gracious- 
ness,  the  chivalry,  the  protecting  gentleness  of  this  strong  man's 
affection  for  her  to  whom  he  owed  his  being,  and,  on  the  other  side, 
the  tender  pride,  the  trustful  dependence,  the  utter  loyalty  of  moth- 
er-love, were  a  constant  joy  and  benediction  to  all  who  knew  Mrs. 
Lawrence  and  her  son — an  object  lesson  in  the  ideal  parental  and 
filial  love.  And  now  that,  in  God's  inscrutable  wisdom,  the  son  has 
been  called  away  from  earth,  it  is  no  small  compensation  to  their 
wide  circle  of  friends  that  his  venerable  mother  has  been  enabled  to 
prepare  this  Memorial. 

None  other  could  have  been  more  truly  commissioned  for  the 
work;  none  other  could  have  performed  it  with  such  loving  fidelity, 
or  enriched  it  with  a  personal  enthusiasm  so  abounding  and  so 
winning. 

This  book,  then,  besides  being  a  faithful  and  vivid  record  of  a 
peculiarly  noble  and  fruitful  life,  is  a  mother's  sacred  tribute  to  her 
son.  It  is  a  record  full  of  interest  not  only  to  the  hundreds  who 
were  personally  acquainted  v/ith  Dr.  Lawrence,  but  to  all  who  appre- 
ciate the  charm  of  vital  biography.  I  confidently  believe  that  this 
book  is  destined  to  take  its  place  among  the  enduring  books  in  its 
class — the  biographies  of  men  and  women  who  have  abounded  in  life 
and  helpfulness ;  and  I  unhesitatingly  commend  it  to  the  general 
reader  as  a  book  rich  in  interest  and  stimulus. 

From  his  boyhood,  Edward  Lawrence  was  an  embodiment  of  de- 
fined purpose,  of  consecrated  energy,  and  an  eager  desire  for  ser- 
viceableness.  How  he  grew  and  blossomed  and  ripened  into  the 
fruit  of  his  strong,  earnest  manhood,  is  simply  and  lovingly  told  in 
the  following  chapters.  The  story  ought  to  be  an  inspiration  to 
every  young  man  and  woman.    It  is  the  record  of  that  rare  and  yet 


xviii 


INTRODUCTION. 


ever  possible  thing  in  human  nature,  the  full  and  utmost  use  of  op- 
portunity. Here  was  a  cup  of  life  brimful  in  every  way — brimful  of 
developed  native  power;  of  earnest,  consecrated  purpose;  of  evident 
appreciation  of  and  joy  in  all  the  good  of  existence,  of  all  manner  of 
affection  and  truth  and  sincerity  and  graciousness.  In  a  word,  Ed- 
ward Lawrence  was  one  of  the  few  Christlike  men;  and  the  lesson 
of  his  life,  as  I  read  it,  is  the  beauty  of  that  rounded,  all-embracing 
and  all-appropriating  life  that  was  in  our  Master.  It  has  been  said 
of  some  men  that  whatever  they  touched  became  beautiful.  Of  Mr. 
Lawrence,  I  think,  it  might  be  even  more  pertinently  said  that  what- 
ever touched  him  became  beautified.  He  had  a  wonderful  power  of 
taking  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men  and  things  into  that  great, 
brotherly,  appreciative  heart  of  his,  and  so  transforming  them  that 
one  might  behold  their  divine  pattern  or  ideal, — the  good  that  is  at 
the  heart  of  everything  God  has  made.  This  was  Christ's  way  of 
redeeming  the  world — by  revealing  to  it  its  own  innate  but  obscured 
goodness  and  beauty.  Those  who  knew  Dr.  Lawrence  in  his  pastor- 
al relation  will  recognize,  in  retrospect,  how  like  his  Master  he  was 
in  his  conception  of  humanity,  and  his  method  of  seeking  its  re- 
-demption. 

Along  with  this  broad  humanity,  this  catholicity  of  sympathy  and 
taste,  Mr.  Lawrence  had  a  most  joyous  love  of  nature,  and  a  keen 
^est  in  life  itself,  physical  as  well  as  mental  and  spiritual.  His 
breadth  of  interest  and  appreciation  goes  far  to  prove  that  the  pro- 
ioundest  love  of  man  and  the  sincerest  love  of  nature  not  only  may 
co-exist  but  ought  to  co-exist.  What  vigor  he  brought  to  his  human 
ministrations  out  of  that  abounding  nature-love,  out  of  his  com- 
munion with  the  woods  and  the  hills  and  the  streams,  out  of  his 
strength-giving  and  brain-clearing  tramps,  out  of  his  Adirondack 
vacations,  which  were  such  a  lease  of  joy  and  inspiration !  And 
how  he  loved  nature  in  its  lowliest  forms! — just  as  he  loved  chil- 
-dren  and  sin-weakened  men  and  women.  Some  of  his  thoughts 
about  nature  are  almost  mystical  in  their  depth  of  sympathy,  their 
insight,  their  emotional  tenderness. 

And  yet  with  all  his  broad  humanity,  with  all  his  virile  zest  in  life 
and  abounding  love  of  nature,  this  most  catholic  man  was  distinct- 
ively a  scholar.  He  came  of  a  race  of  scholars  on  both  sides  of  the 
-family,  a  race  of  famous  theologians,  preachers  and  teachers.  His 
-maternal  grandfather,  Leonard  Woods,  of  Andover,  was  one  of  the 
-most  distinguished  of  the  older  school  of  American  theologians.  His 
-uncle,  also  Leonard  Woods,  was  a  learned  president  of  Bowdoin 
College.    His  father  was  a  theological  professor  and  a  preacher  of 


INTRODUCTION. 


xix 


.•great  power  and  sweetness.    His  mother  has  taken  high  rank  among 
American  writers  and  reformers,  being  the  author  of  such  well- 
known  books  as  The  Broken  Bud,  Light  on  the  Dark  River,  Marion 
■Graham,  and  The  Tobacco  Problem.    She  was  the  originator,  and, 
in  conjunction  with  the  Rev.  Washington  Gladden  and  others,  the 
writer  of  Parish  Problems,  and  has  also  contributed  widely  to  the 
press.    These  literary  and  scholarly  gifts  naturally  descended  to  Dr. 
Lawrence;  while  his  philosophical  and  linguistic  attainments,  and 
his  remarkable  powers  as  a  public  speaker,  have  been  remarked  by 
many.    He  was  considered  a  student  of  rare  promise  while  studying 
theology   in   Germany.    The   distinguished  Tholuck    conceived  a 
warm  personal  friendship  for  him,  and  prophesied  a  career  of  brilli- 
ant achievement  for  the  young  American.    Everywhere,  even  as  a 
young  man,  he  was  the  acknowledged  peer  and   fit   associate  of 
scholars.    His  information,  his  culture,  his  philosophical  depth  and 
■keenness,  were  a  constant  source  of  pride  and  delight  to  his  friends 
and  companions.     The  carefully  arranged  and  labelled  contents  of 
his  sermon-case,  now  at  "Linden  Home,"  show  the  wideness  and 
thoroughness  of  his  investigations  and  the  richness  of  his  working 
■material. 

The  personal  tributes  scattered  through  this  Memorial  evince  how 
intimately  and  broadly  Dr.  Lawrence  appealed  to  all  classes  and  all 
ages.  He  was  verily  "all  things  to  all  men" —  not  in  the  negative, 
<;onforming  sense,  but  positively  and  formatively.  He  appealed  to 
the  best  in  every  one,  and  with  such  effectiveness  that  rarely  did  he 
fail  to  elicit  that  response  which  leads  to  the  quickening  and  up- 
building of  character.  There  was  in  him  a  moral  and  spiritual  mag- 
netism that  both  attracted  others  and  imbued  them  with  its  own 
vital  quality.  How  unanimously  those  with  whom  he  came  in  con- 
■tact,  even  for  the  briefest  periods  of  time,  testify  that  his  personal- 
ity was  an  inspiration  and  help  to  them !  He  had  some  large  gift  of 
inward  life  for  all,  from  childhood  to  age.  To  be  near  him  was  to 
share  his  strength  and  the  courage  and  hope  of  his  splendid  man- 
hood. 

With  all  these  rare  qualities  and  brilliant  gifts,  Edward  Lawrence 
■  conceived  that  his  mission  in  life  lay  chiefly  among  the  neglected 
"other  half;"  and  during  his  later  years  he  more  and  more  gave  his 
time  and  his  rich  resources  of  mind  and  heart  to  the  practical  solu- 
tion of  the  problem  of  the  poor  in  our  large  cities.  His  tenement- 
house  work  in  Baltimore  was  just  reaching  the  point  where  his 
heart  could  be  cheered  by  the  prospect  of  practical  success  when  he 
■was  called  away,  leaving  his  plans  to  be    matured  by  others.  One 


XX 


INTRODUCTION. 


cannot  help  feeling  that  the  science  of  Sociology  has  suffered  a  great 
loss  by  his  removal.  And  that  he  is  sincerely  missed  and  mourned 
by  the  poor  of  more  than  one  American  city,  is  proved  by  many  ex- 
pressions of  sympathy  received  by  his  mother  after  his  call  to  the 
higher  life. 

Perhaps,  to  the  general  reader,  the  tributes  with  which  this 
Memorial  is  crowded  may  seem  overdrawn,  and  the  compiler  may 
be  accused  of  selecting  only  those  whose  tone  is  distinctly  laudatory. 
But  the  writer  of  this  Introduction  wishes  to  assume  responsibility 
for  the  insertion  of  every  tribute ;  and  he  can  assure  the  reader  that 
it  would  have  been  difficult  to  find  any  less  eulogistic  in  character. 
It  was  by  the  writer's  solicitation,  also,  that  Mrs.  Lawrence  was  pre- 
vailed upon  to  admit  the  references  to  herself  either  in  her  son's 
correspondence,  or  in  letters  from  others,  which  have  seemed  neces- 
sary to  the  completeness  of  this  Memorial.  And  further,  for  all 
personal  references  that  might  involve  a  feeling  of  delicacy  on  the 
part  of  the  relatives  or  intimate  friends  of  Mr.  Lawrence,  I  desire  to 
be  held  responsible. 

By  urgent  request  of  friends,  and  those  who  have  assisted  in  pre- 
paring this  Memorial,  Mrs.  Lawrence  has  consented  to  the  use  of 
the  photograph  in  which  she  appears  with  her  son, — a  fitting  testi- 
mony, it  would  seem,  to  her  close  and  vital  relation  both  with  her 
son's  life  and  his  biography. 

In  conclusion,  I  wish  to  express  my  own  feeling  of  unworthiness 
— though  coupled  with  a  grateful  desire  to  serve  in  any  possible 
way  one  whom  I  have  so  loved — for  the  task  of  introducing  this 
Memorial  of  my  friend,  Edward  Lawrence.  Among  so  many 
eminent  and  devoted  men  and  women,  who  admired  and  loved  him, 
surely  some  hand  fitter  than  mine  might  have  been  found  to  perform 
this  last  high  service  of  friendship.  But  since  the  commission  has 
fallen  upon  me,  I  can  only  add  to  my  tribute  of  affection  and  admir- 
ation the  hope  that  its  insufficiency  may  be  pardoned  for  the  sake  of 
the  love  I  bear,  and  would  fain  make  serviceable,  to  one  whose 
friendship  and  whose  memory  have  so  greatly  enriched  my  life. 


JAMES  BUCKHAM. 


CHAPTER  I. 


EDWARD'S  CHILDHOOD. 

Not  far  away  we  saw  the  port, 

The  strange,  old-fashioned,  silent  town, 

The  light-house,  the  dismantled  fort. 
The  wooden  houses,  quaint  and  brown. 

— Longfellow. 

Dear,  quaint  old  Marblehead !  in  its  early  days  the  sec- 
ond town  in  the  state  for  population  and  wealth  ;  foremost  for 
patriotism  and  bravery  in  our  three  great  wars,  as  also  in 
our  recent  fourth  war;  with  its  tmeqttalled  harbor,  its 
grand  scenery,  its  historic  dwellings,  its  various  traditions, 
— it  is  not  strange  that  Longfellow,  Whittier  and  Lucy  Lar- 
com  have  immortalized  it  in  verse. 

And  here,  on  Jan.  i6th,  1847,  many  hearts  were  made 
glad  by  the  advent  of  a  birdling,  whom  his  mother  called 
her  "snow-bird,"  and  who  was  christened  Edward  Alexan- 
der Lawrence.  As  he  was  his  father's  namesake,  the  junior 
must  be  added,  and  on  this  account  some  proposed  a  varia- 
tion. Btit  why  give  a  child  his  father's  name  and  then  half 
take  it  back?  As  to  the  boy  himself,  whenever  he  wrote  his 
full  name  he  never  forgot  the  affix. 

On  October  7th,  1847,  the  following  juvenile  epistle  was 
laid  on  the  birthday  table : 

To  My  Father — From  his  boy; 
My  Papa:— 

This  is  the  first  letter  that  I  ever  wrote.  And  this  is 
your  first  birthday  that  I  was  ever  alive.  Mamma  says  I  am  your 
littler  self.  I  don't  know  what  that  means,  but  I  know  that  I  can  kick 
and  sneeze  and  cry  and  laugh  and  crow  and  goo  and  creep.  This 
is  a  great  deal  for  such  a  little  boy.  And  I  like  birthdays,  because 
you  all  look  so  happy.    But  I  wonder  what  a  birthday  means? 


2        REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


I  am  tired  of  writing  to  amuse  j  ou.  I  had  rather  pull  your  nose, 
or  put  my  finger  into  your  eyes.  I  can't  think  why  you  don't  give 
me  any  candy,  but  I  will  give  you  some  sugar  plums.  Are  you 
glad  I  have  come  to  keep  your  birthday?  because  I  am. 

Lovingly, 

Your  winter  boy. 

When  Eddie  was  a  year  and  a  half  old,  a  great  sorrow 
came  to  the  household  in  the  sickness  and  death  of  his  sis- 
ter, Carrie,  our  Broken  Bud.  He  seemed  about  to  follow 
her,  but  through  a  change  of  place  and  of  treatment,  God 
gave  him  back  to  us.  As  he  grew  older  he  talked  much 
about  her.  "Have  a  sister  up  in  the  sky  ;  want  to  go  see  her. 
I  will  hug  Cally  and  kiss  her,  so  she  won't  be  sick  any 
more."  He  often  prayed  that  "papa  and  he  and  mamma 
and  sister  Meta  might  go  up  in  the  sky;  all  folk  go  up."  At 
one  time  he  called  out,  "I  want  to  see  Cally ;  I  want  to 
carry  up  my  cups  and  saucers  and  little  table  for  Cally  to 
play  with.   I  want  to  go  up  there  now." 

"Do  5-ou  want  to  leave  mamma?" 

"No,  I  will  stay  with  you  till  you  go  up  sky." 

Standing  in  a  chair  one  day,  he  saw  himself  in  the  glass. 
"Who  did  put  me  in  the  glass?  How  can  I  get  out  of  the 
glass?  I  don't  want  to  stay  in  the  glass." 

One  Sunday,  on  coming  home  from  church,  the  maid 
told  us  he  had  been  very  good,  amusing  himself  with  the 
scissors.  Imagine  his  mother's  consternation  as  he  sat  tri- 
umphant on  the  bed,  his  golden  curls  scattered  about  him. 
To  divert  her  attention,  his  father  pointed  to  the  pussy  cat, 
also  on  the  bed,  her  fur  clipped  in  scollops  from  head  to 
tail.  Looking  into  his  mother's  troubled  face  and  picking 
up  one  of  his  curls,  Eddie  held  it  close  to  his  head,  saying, 
"Papa  mend  it  on  with  Palding  glue." 

He  got  the  idea  that  every  holiday  was  his  birthday.  On 
the  Fourth  of  July,  with  crackers  blazing  and  guns  firing 
around  him,  his  father,  seeing  him  taking  cents  from  his 
drawer,  asked,  "What  are  you  doing?" 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


3 


"I  am  getting  cents  for  pay  the  man  for  going  bang  for 
my  birthday." 

When  three  years  old,  on  a  visit  of  the  family  in  Boston, 
finding  the  front  door  open,  Eddie  walked  out.  When  he 
was  missed,  which  was  not  for  some  time,  greatly  alarmed, 
many  set  forth  in  a  vain  pursuit.  Such  a  little  fellow,  lost 
in  that  big  city!  Failing  to  get  any  trace  of  him,  his  father 
hastened  to  the  town  crier's.  While  telling  his  story,  he 
felt  his  coat  pulled.  "See,  papa,  see  what  I've  got."  And  the 
dear  child  held  up  a  watchman's  rattle.  He  had  not  been  in 
the  least  disturbed,  and  when  his  father,  paying  fifty  cents 
for  getting  him  "out  of  pound,"  brought  him  to  his  moth- 
er, all  her  demonstrations  at  finding  her  lost  boy  were 
met  by  the  cool  announcement :  "No,  I  went  to  walk,  with 
the  gentleman."  It  seems  that  a  policeman,  seeing  him  on 
the  street,  had  taken  him  to  Marshal  Tukey.  He  asked  his 
name,  but  as  the  reply,  "Elly  Ally  Lolly,"  failed  to  enlighten 
him,  the  child  was  put  in  charge  of  the  City-Crier,  to  be 
duly  advertised. 

His  sympathies  were  strongly  aroused  by  hearing  the  sto- 
ry of  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ.  "When  I  go  up  in  the  sky," 
he  exclaimed  with  great  eagerness,  "I  will  carry  Jesus  some-- 
thing.  I  will  see  what  is  in  my  cellar.''  So,  jumping  down 
from  his  mother's  lap,  and  opening  his  closet  door,  he  select- 
ed one  of  his  best  playthings,  saying,  "I  will  give  him  that. 
Do  you  think  he  will  like  that?" 

During  a  year's  absence  of  his  father  on  a  foreign  tour 
for  his  health,  Eddie  was  his  mother's  constant  comforter, 
insisting  that  he  was  her  "little  uddy" — (little  husband). 
Not  long  before  his  father's  departure,  Eddie  had  been  in 
a  sailing  company,  where  the  sea  was  rough  and  the  vessel 
rocked  vigorously,  to  his  great  alarm.  When  told  that  his 
father  was  crossing  the  ocean  in  a  ship — the  bark  Turque 
— he  was  much  impressed,  and  in  his  daily  prayer  added  the 
petition,  "O  God,  don't  let  papa  tip  over!" 


4 


REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


While  his  father  was  absent  he  claimed  it  as  his  orivilesfe 

J.  o 

to  be  "the  meat-man"  and  "the  blessing-man,"  by  which  he 
meant  helping  to  the  meat  at  table,  and  saying  grace,  both  of 
which  he  did  with  the  utmost  gravity,  continuing  the  prac- 
tice in  all  their  visits. 

He  spent  a  night  with  his  mother  at  John  G.  Whittier's, 
whose  home  was  then  in  West  Amesbury,  his  beloved  moth- 
er and  sister  Elizabeth  making  up  his  family.  Eddie's  heart 
was  soon  won,  and  the  delightful  visit  was  always  remem- 
bered. 

They  also  visited  his  Uncle  Leonard,  in  Brunswick,  and  a 
number  of  friends  in  Portland.  Writes  a  niece,  Mrs.  Mary 
Richardson, — then  residing  in  the  latter  place, — "I  remem- 
ber how  very  interesting  he  was.  While  at  my  house  one 
day  there  was  a  severe  thunderstorm,  which  made  me 
rather  nervous.  The  little  lad  looked  up  in  my  face,  say- 
ing, 'Don't  be  afraid  ;  God  is  right  here  !'  I  have  never  for- 
gotten his  sweet  faith  nor  his  daily  prayer  for  his  absent 
father." 

On  his  father's  return,  the  little  four-yeared  boy  was  so 
overcome  that  he  could  not  speak,  but  in  the  fulness  of  his 
heart  he  laid  his  head  on  his  father's  shoulder.  At  last 
words  came.  "Papa,  mamma  has  had  a  great  many  cries 
since  you  went  away,"  thus  revealing  the  secret  which  she 
had  so  carefully  kept. 

One  of  the  visits  that  Edward  and  his  mother  made  dur- 
ing the  father's  absence  was  in  Swampscott,  at  Mr.  Wood- 
ford's, who,  with  his  wife,  kept  an  excellent  family  school, 
Edward  had  a  grand  time  among  so  many  boys,  and  with 
the  Woodford  little  girls,  and  greatly  enjoyed  gathering  an 
audience  and  preaching  to  them.  Mr.  W^oodford  speaks  of 
his  long,  flowing  ringlets,  of  his  gentle  ways  and  his  strong 
attachments.  "Having  finished  his  studies  and  entered  on 
his  life-work,  he  seemed  like  one  built  up  after  no  human 
model,  but  having  thoughts  and  purposes  of  his  own.'' 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


5 


Miss  Elizabeth  Hooper,  a  native  of  the  old  town, 
writes : — • 

My  recollections  of  dear  Edward  go  back  to  his  birth  in  Marble- 
head,  his  father  being  my  pastor.  Eddie,  as  we  called  him,  was  a 
child  of  rare  promise,  and  early  gave  indications  of  the  coming 
man.  As  a  lad  his  tastes  were  above  the  average  of  boys.  His  great 
delight  was  in  a  collection  of  shells  and  minerals  and  insects.  Years 
after,  in  1890,  I  was  in  Marblehead  one  Sunday,  when  he  preached 
on  the  Neck,  where  he  gave  us  a  most  helpful  sermon. 

From  Mrs.  Dr.  Winslow,  formerly  a  missionary  in  In- 
dia :— 

Surely,  every  thought  about  him  from  babyhood  has  been  sweet, 
and  blessed  are  all  your  memories.  He  grew  to  satisfy  you,  whose 
ideal,  so  high,  it  was  not  easy  to  find. 

At  the  age  of  five  Eddie  became  quite  a  preacher.  Gath- 
ering his  audience,  with  a  chair  in  front  for  a  pulpit,  and 
a  hymn  book  in  his  hand, — "Sing  the  14th  page."  Then, 
with  many  gestures,  he  proceeded  with  his  sermon,  of 
which  an  example  is  given,  copied  from  his  mother's  jour- 
nal :  "I  say  unto  you,  love  your  fathers  and  mothers. 
Don't  crowd  your  sisters."  Seeing  some  one  smile,  "You 
mustn't  laugh  in  meeting,  at  least  you  must  try  as 
hard  as  you  can  not  to.  If  you  can't  possibly  help  it,  I 
guess  you  may.  I  don't  know  certain,  because  I  am  not 
a  real  minister,  only  a  play  minister,  but  I  expect  to  be  a 
real  minister  when  I  grow  up." 

His  frequent  charge  in  his  sermons,  "Brothers,  don't 
crowd  your  sisters,"  was  significant  of  his  future  stand  on 
the  woman-question. 

That  he  should  thus  early  speak  of  the  ministry  as  his 
profession,  was  quite  natural,  inasmuch  as  his  great  grand- 
father Wheeler  was  a  clergyman,  as  was  also  his  grand- 
father, Leonard  Woods  of  Andover  Theological  Seminary, 
and  his  uncle,  Leonard  Woods  of  Bowdoin  College,  while 
other  uncles  on  both  sides  of  the  house,  and  many  cousins, 
were  also  ministers. 


6       REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


His  hair,  which  he  had  cHpped,  had  grown  long,  and 
his  golden  curls  were  the  pride  of  his  mother.  But  when 
it  seemed  best  that  they  should  be  cut  off,  he  was  so 
changed  that  she  exclaimed,  "I  have  lost  my  boy!" 

"Don't,  mamma,"  throwing  his  arms  around  her  neck. 
'"It  makes  me  feel  bad  to  have  you  say,  'I  have  lost  my 
boy!'" 

In  a  thunder  storm  he  was  told  that  lightning-rods  car- 
ried the  lightning  down  into  the  earth.  "I  wish  I  could 
touch  one.   Would  it  carry  me  down  into  the  earth?" 

One  day  at  table  his  father  said,  "Margaret,  I  thank  you 
for  some  rice."  With  imperturbable  gravity,  the  little  fel- 
low passed  his  plate  :  "Margaret,  /  thank  you  for  some  rice." 

His  sympathies  were  very  quick.  He  came  home,  at 
one  time,  in  great  trouble  about  "Silly  Billy,"  telling  a  pa- 
thetic story  of  his  trying  to  hurt  a  man.  "I  almost  cried 
in  the  street."  Everything  that  interested  him  he  brought 
into  his  prayers.  "O  Lord,  bless  them  two  ladies  that  sing 
at  the  panoramas." 

One  morning,  after  telling  one  of  his  dreams  about  his 
sister  Carrie,  he  added :  "I  wish  Joseph  was  here  to  tell  the 
interpretation."  He  talked  much  about  death.  Hearing  of 
a  little  cousin's  sweet  face  in  the  casket :  "I  wonder  how  I 
shall  look  when  I  am  dead?  But  I  sha'n't  see  myself,  I 
suppose,  shall  I?"  Adding  presently  :  "I  wish  we  could  all 
die  together,  but  then,  there  could  be  nobody  to  fix  us 
with  flowers.  I  shouldn't  think  they  would  like  to  put 
them  in  the  ground  and  have  the  dirt  get  on  the  coffins.  I 
should  be  afraid  it  would  get  in."  After  a  little  reflection, 
he  added,  "I. should  like  to  have  them  put  me  just  where 
they  wanted  to." 

When  his  sister  was  weeping  bitterly  because  her  Sun- 
day School  teacher  was  going  away  as  a  missionary,  her 
mother  appealed  to  her  benevolence,  telling  her  of  the  chil- 
dren who  worshipped  images  because  they  had  no  one  to 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


7 


teach  them  better.  At  this  point,  Eddie  quietly  remarked, 
"If  we  send  away  all  our  teachers,  we  shall  worship  images." 

Rev.  Henry  Fairbanks  of  St.  Johnsbury,  Vermont,  on  a 
little  visit  at  Marblehead,  had  won  Eddie's  heart  by  his 
mechanical  skill,  kindly  exercised  for  his  benefit.  Not  long 
after,  on  April  nth,  1853,  Eddie,  then  about  six  years  old, 
dictated  to  him  the  following  letter : — 

I  send  my  love  to  you.  And  I  would  like  to  know  in  how  many 
weeks  you  will  come  and  see  me.  And  when  you  come,  I  would 
like  to  have  you  sharpen  my  knife.  I  hope  I  shall  have  a  nice 
time  in  St.  Johnsbury,  when  I  go  there  in  the  summer.  I  want  to 
make  one  cart  and  a  sled  and  a  wheelbarrow  and  a  table  and 
chairs  and  all  sorts  of  things.   I  love  you  more  than  tongue  can  tell. 

Your  affectionate  little  friend, 

Eddie  Lawrence. 

About  forty  years  later,  March  30th,  1894,  Mr.  Fair- 
banks writes : 

I  remember  well  the  visit  that  followed  this  letter,  when  I  met 
"Eddie,"  the  bright,  eager  boy,  enthusiastic  on  every  subject,  be- 
cause his  view  was  broadening  so  rapidly,  whichever  way  he  looked, 
or  whatever  he  studied.  He  was  then  greatly  interested  in  all 
mechanical  matters,  and  it  was  very  easy  to  keep  his  interest  as  to 
how  things  were  made,  or  why  any  machine  would  work  as  it  did. 
The  reason  of  things  in  the  natural  world  held  his  attention.  The 
philosophic  bent  of  his  mind  made  him  first  a  natural  philosopher. 
His  life,  that  seems  so  imfinished,  was  very  productive,  and  later, 
you  will  see  that  it  had  a  certain  completeness,  though  the  end 
came  so  abruptly. 

After  reading  to  Eddie  a  story  about  a  little  girl  giving 
her  heart  to  God,  "Mamma,"  said  he,  while  the  color  deep- 
ened on  his  cheek,  "I  don't  know  how  to  give  my  heart  to 
God" — hesitating — "unless  it  is  to  be  good."  His  prayers 
showed  him  to  be  in  earnest.  "O  Lord,  make  me  a  Christ- 
ian! O  Lord,  govern  my  temper!  May  I  lead  my  sister 
into  good  examples."  A  quick  temper  was  a  fault  that  he 
frankly  confessed  and  early  battled  against.  The  self-con- 
trol which  in  time  he  obtained  was  a  wonder  to  those  who 
had  known  him  as  a  boy,  a  flush  on  his  face,  which  soon 
passed  away,  being  all  the  token  of  disturbance. 


8 


REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AXD  WORK 


His  seventh  birthday,  Jan.  i6th,  1854,  was  approaching, 
and  as  it  came  on  Sunday  his  motlier,  in  anticipation, 
gave  him  his  presents  on  Saturday,  and  among  them,  "Little 
Susie's  Six  Birthdays,"  which  had  been  sent  her  by  Mrs. 
Prentiss,  but  which  she  had  not  had  time  to  look  into.  Af- 
ter he  had  read  it,  he  ran  to  her  in  great  excitement :  "Oh, 
mamma,  I  wish  I  could  have  such  a  present  on  my  birth- 
day as  Susie  had !" 

"What  did  she  have?" 

"A  little  baby." 

And  when,  on  Sunday,  his  birthday  sister  came  to  us,  he 
went  around  in  great  excitement,  exclaiming,  "I've  got  a 
baby !  Tve  got  a  baby  !"  From  that  time  he  assumed  a  sort 
of  guardianship  over  this  sister,  considering  her  a  special 
gift  to  himself. 

Eddie  was  fond  of  dictating  letters  full  of  improbable 
stories  about  gardens  and  palaces  and  all  sorts  of  animals, 
ending  with  some  amusing  catechisms.  After  he  had 
learned  to  write,  he  told  his  own  stories,  illustrating  them 
by  pictures.  He  was  persistent  in  his  attempts  to  get  at 
the  roots  of  things.  When  only  five  he  came  to  his  father 
one  day  in  great  perplexity.  "Papa,  Meta  says  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  God." 

"Yes." 

"And  Jesus  Christ  is  God's  son?" 
"Yes." 

"Why!  God,  and  God's  son,  too!"  with  a  mingled  ex- 
pression of  surprise  and  amusement. 

In  hearing  of  the  birth  of  Jesus,  and  how  he  was  laid  in 
the  manger  with  the  cattle  around,  he  asked.  "Who  took 
care  of  him  that  the  cattle  shouldn't  hurt  him?" 

"God  took  care  of  him." 

"But,"  with  a  puzzled  and  impatient  air,  "how  could  he 
take  care  of  himself?  Jesus  Christ  is  God; — how  could 
he?" 


EDDIE  ON  A  FESTAL  OCCASION. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


9 


At  the  same  early  age  he  became  a  warm  advocate  of  the 
Maine  Hquor  law.  "Oh,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  wish  father 
could  go  all  over  the  world,  and  spend  a  Sabbath  every- 
where, and  tell  them  not  to  get  drunk !" 

Besides  being  the  postman  of  the  family,  doing  much  of 
the  marketing,  and  being  always  ready  to  run  on  errands, 
he  was  also  a  sort  of  home-missionary.  He  liked  nothing 
better  than  to  start  forth  with  a  basket  of  books  and  tracts 
and  find  his  way  into  the  back  streets  of  the  old  town.  When 
the  boys,  who  sometimes  accosted  him  as  "Deacon  Law- 
rence," had  gathered  around  him,  he  would  distribute  his 
treasures,  lending  some  and  giving  others,  according  to 
his  best  judgment.  One  day  he  came  home  very  earnest  in 
his  account  of  a  boy  who  used  profane  language.  He  sadd 
he  told  the  boy  that  if  he  used  bad  words  it  would  lead  him 
to  smoking  and  then  to  drinking,  and  that  the  boy  prom- 
ised he  would  not  do  so  any  more. 

He  was  alive  to  the  great  questions  of  the  day.  In  1854, 
when  the  admission  of  Nebraska  as  a  slave  state  was  under 
discussion,  he  was  greatly  exercised,  anxious  to  learn  ev- 
ery new  phase.  Indeed,  he  was  so  much  excited  that  he 
wrote  the  following  appeal  to  Congress  : 

Gentlemen: — 

Will  you  please  not  let  the  Emmabraska  bill  pass?  If 
you  had  the  slaves,  would  it  make  you  feel  any  happier?  How 
should  you  like  to  be  slaves,  and  to  be  beaten?  Would  you  like 
it  very  well?   I,  therefore,  beg  you  not  to  let  it  pass. 

Edward  A.  Lawrence,  Jr. 

East  Windsor  Hill. 

To  Congress. 


CHAPTER  11. 


BOYHOOD  DAYS  AT  EAST  WINDSOR  HILL. 

Here  at  the  portal  thou  dost  stand, 
And  with  thy  little  hand 
Thou  openest  the  mysterious  gate 
Into  the  future's  undiscovered  land. 

— Longfellow. 

In  the  summer  of  1854,  Eddie's  father  accepted  a  profes- 
sorship in  the  East  Windsor  Theological  Seminary.  While 
the  matter  was  under  consideration,  Eddie  happened  one 
day,  in  his  prowlings  among  the  old  books  in  the  attic,  to 
come  across  a  copy  of  the  Connecticut  Blue  Laws.  He 
came  down  with  a  very  serious  face,  exclaiming,  "I  don't 
want  to  go  to  Connecticut." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because,  if  we  go,  I  can't  kiss  Anna,  Sundays." 

In  the  preparations  for  removal,  he  was  busy  from  morn- 
ing till  night.  From  an  account  of  this  great  event,  written 
at  his  dictation,  a  few  extracts  follow : — 

I  had  long  been  wanting  to  live  in  the  country  and  now  my  great 
desire  is  granted.  I  had  lived  in  a  town  with  5.000  inhabitants.  I 
am  now  living  in  a  country  named  East  Windsor  Hill,  containing, 
I  guess,  about  3,000.  We  did  not  have  half  so  much  time  as  we 
should  like  to  have  had  to  say  good-bye  to  our  friends  at  Marble- 
head,  but  what  time  we  had  we  made  good  use  of.  I  had  two  gold 
dollars  given  me  and  a  kite  with  three  tassels  on  it.  I  should 
think  it  was  about  a  yard  and  a  half  long.  But  it  was  very  trouble- 
some to  carry  in  the  cars.  We  couldn't  find  a  very  good  place  for  it, 
but,  however,  we  found  a  place.  There  were  father  and  mother  and 
me  and  Meggy  and  Katy  and  Meta  and  Clarissa  and  Kalopothakes 
and  Miss  Church.  The  same  night  that  we  got  here  we  went  to 
look  at  the  house  and  thought  it  was  very  pretty  indeed.  Meta  and 
me  ran  into  the  garden  and  found  raspberries  and  thimble-berries 
and  currants,  and  then  we  ran  into  the  fields  and  found  some 
blackberries  and  one  or  two  blueberries. 

My  father,  he  was  invited  by  the  committee  to  come  here  and  be 
a  professor.    It  was  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  leave  Marblehead, 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


II 


he  was  so  attached  to  his  people.  For  to  be  a  pastor  is  very  differ- 
ent from  being  a  professor,  for  they  do  not  have  so  much  sympathy 
if  they  are  a  professor.  For  those  that  have  to  be  professors  have 
to  teach  young  students.  And  they  do  not  get  acquainted  with 
them  so  soon,  and  when  they  do  get  acquainted  they  do  not  see 
them  so  much,  and  besides,  the  professors  only  give  lectures  to  tell 
them  how  to  be  ministers,  whereas  pastors  give  sermons  to  have 
the  people  Christians.  But  I  don't  know  much  about  his  organ- 
ization. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  he  was  asked. 
"Why,  when  he  was  organized  to  be  a    professor.  But  he  had 
an  augural  sermon  written." 

This  account  was  taken,  word  for  word,  as  he  dictated  it, 

when  he  was  between  seven  and  eight.   He  continues  : — 

We  found  it  a  beautiful  place  to  go  berrying  in.  We  got  blue- 
berries and  blackberries  and  whortle-berries  .  When  father  got  in 
his  wood,  I  got  in  three  cords  of  Connecticut  wood,  and  a  cord  and 
a  half  of  Massachusetts.  And  I  pulled  up  some  of  the  turnips,  and 
the  carrots  father  would  dig,  and  I  would  pull  them  up  and  shake 
the  dirt  off.  And  I  brought  in  the  potatoes  and  about  seven  bush- 
els of  squashes.  We  have  got  four  hens  and  one  cock  and  we 
have  got  a  cow. 

I  will  now  go  back  to  Marblehead,  and  tell  you  a  hint  I  once 
gave  to  a  lady.  One  afternoon,  I  went  to  a  lady's  house  by  the 
name  of  Mrs.  Humphrey.  There  was  a  girl  there  by  the  name  of 
Caroline,  and  she  went  to  get  some  sweet  crackers.  And  Mrs. 
Humphrey  gave  me  one.  And  I  liked  it  very  much,  and  thought 
I  should  like  another.  So  I  gave  a  hint  to  her,  and  I  said,  "Those 
crackers  are  very  nice."  But  she  didn't  say  anything.  The  second 
time  I  said,  "Those  crackers  are  very  nice  indeed."  And  they 
didn't  do  anything.  And  then,  as  I  was  determined  to  have  one, 
I  said,  "Those  crackers  are  very  nice  indeed,  and  if  I  had  another, 
I'd  eat  it."  And  then  she  got  up  and  gave  me  another,  and  they 
laughed  very  much. 

And  now  I  will  tell  you  the  names  of  the  books  I  have  read,  and 
first  what  I  have  read  that  are  proper  for  Sunday: — Pilgrim's 
Progress  and  Holy  War,  both  written  by  Bunyan. 

"Mother,  is  Bunyan  alive  now?" 

"No,  dear." 

"Then  he  won't  write  any  more  books,  will  he?" 

Eddie  went  on  to  name  his  Sunday  and  then  his  week- 
day books,  after  which  he  returned  to  his  favorite,  "Pil- 
grim's Progress,"  saying,  "I  will  tell  you  a  little  about  it." 
And  then,  without  recurring  to  the  book,  he  proceeded,  in 
his  childish  way,  to  tell  the  whole  story,  calling  Pliable, 
"Pilable,"    the    Delectable    Mountains,  the  "Deceptable 


12      REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Mountains,"  yet  giving  graphic  pictures  of  the  various 
scenes  which  filled  several  pages. 

There  was  no  end  to  his  questions  on  every  subject  that 
came  up.  He  wanted  to  know  all  the  causes  of  every  ef- 
fect, and  all  the  efifects  of  every  cause.  When  helping  his 
father  about  the  wood: — "If  the  barn  was  all  filled  with 
wood,  would  it  hold  a  million  of  cords?" 

"No." 

"Would  it  hold  a  hundred  thousand?" 
In  reading  about  a  tent ; — "How  many  persons  can  sleep 
in  a  tent?" 

"That  would  depend  on  the  size  of  the  tent." 
"If  it  was  as  large  as  this  house,  how  many  could  sleep 
in  it?" 

"I  think  fifty  might." 

"Couldn't  more  than  fifty,  if  there  w^ere  two  or  three  beds 
in  every  room,  and  in  the  kitchen  and  the  closets,  and  three 
or  four  persons  slept  in  every  bed?" 

So  the  weeks  and  months  rolled  away.  Busy  with  his 
studies  in  the  district  school,  in  the  evenings  Eddie  read 
solid  books,  giving  a  report  of  what  he  could  remember. 
In  this  way  he  perseveringly  went  through  "Hume's  His- 
tory." 

With  a  decidedly  musical  taste,  he  begged  that  he  might 
take  lessons.  His  mother  consented,  on  condition  that,  if 
he  began,  he  should  keep  straight  on.  To  this  he  readily 
agreed,  but  after  a  few  days,  getting  tired  of  his  scales,  he 
begged  off.  As  he  was  held  to  his  bargain,  however,  he 
manfully  arranged  to  be  waked  in  season  to  practise  an  hour 
before  breakfast,  even  when  obliged  to  do  so  by  lamplight. 
This  habit  he  continued  for  months,  and  through  life  reaped 
the  benefit  of  his  perseverance. 

Writes  Mrs.  Watson,  one  of  our  neighbors  and  friends  at 
East  Windsor  Hill  :— 

I  recall  Edward's  beautiful,  frank  face,  just  as  he  looked  that 
pleasant  first  Sunday  when  you  all  came  into  the  Seminary  Chapel 
together.    Speaking  of  those  days,  Bowen  Clapp,  one  of  his  school- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


13 


mates,  says: — "I  remember  Edward  as  the  most  studious  boy  in 
school,  and  I  never  knew  him  do  a  mean  thing.  The  boys  always 
had  a  high  respect  for  him."  How  happy  he  was  at  our  Christ- 
mas tree,  when  Donnie  personated  Santa  Claus  and  httle  Anna 
crept  under  the  chair,  thinking  he  was  the  real  one! 

Writes  another  resident  of  the  Hill,  a  granddaughter  of 
Pres.  Tyler : — "I  remember  Edward  as  a  wonderfully  love- 
ly and  remarkable  boy.  And  as  he  grew  up,  he  was,  to  me, 
an  ideal  man." 

Eddie  entered  with  great  zest  into  all  boyish  plays,  and 
was  a  fine  swimmer  and  skater.  He  was  also  a  genuine 
worker,  helping  his  father  in  the  garden,  milking  the  cows, 
chopping  wood,  and  doing  various  errands,  besides  assist- 
ing his  mother  in  such  household  duties  as  it  is  well  for  a 
boy  to  learn. 

He  greatly  enjoyed  the  guests  that  from  time  to  time 
gathered  in  his  home — Asa  D.,  Henry  B.,  and  John  Cot- 
ton Smith,  with  various  men  and  women  of  renown.  There 
were  also  Frenchmen,  Germans,  Greeks,  Armenians  and 
Bulgarians — Dagnault,  OllendorfT,  Constantine,  Kalopotha- 
kes,  Minasian,  Hachadoorian,  Gospodinof¥,  several  of 
whom  were  at  different  times  members  of  the  family. 

With  some  of  the  theological  students  he  was  quite  fa- 
miliar.  Writes  Rev.  Moses  T.  Runnells : — 

How  vividly  do  I  recall  the  bright,  inquisitive,  intelligent,  little 
boy  of  eight,  with  his  gentle  manners  and  delicate  tastes,  who  at- 
tended to  his  piano  practice  and  other  studies  with'  such  wonderful 
regularity !  At  family  prayers  he  would  pass  the  Bibles  in  the  differ- 
ent languages  and  the  hymn  books  to  each  member  of  a  somewhat 
numerous  household,  and  afterwards  collect  them  with  a  grace- 
fulness, yet  despatch,  combined  with  a  seriousness  all  the  more 
pleasant  to  behold,  from  his  being  so  entirely  unafifected.  On  Sat- 
urday afternoons,  he  would  assist  me  efficiently  and  with  genuine 
enthusiasm  in  sweeping  and  dusting  the  Seminary  halls,  of  which 
I  took  charge,  and  also  in  ringing  the  bell,  becoming  quite  an 
adept  in  tolling  it.  What  surprised  me  was  the  fact  that  a  mere 
child  of  eight  should  be  so  actuated  by  a  desire  to  be  systematically 
and  perseveringly  useful.  In  the  winter  we  used  to  take  rambles, 
with  slides,  and  skating  excursions,  I  drawing  him  on  a  sled  to  his 
great  delight.  We  also  sometimes  took  a  ride  together  to  Hartford, 
eight  miles  from  the  Hill,  which  was  always  a  great  occasion 
with  him,  and  which  served  to  bring  him  out  in  many  original  re- 
marks, as  he  encountered  new  sights  and  sounds. 


14      REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


In  all  these  interviews  I  never  saw  him  ruffled ;  indeed,  he  never 
varied  from  that  pecuharly  sunny  disposition,  which  made  his 
presence  always  a  pleasure.  He  used,  indeed,  to  complain  that  he 
had  considerable  of  the  "Old  Adam"  to  subdue,  although  I  could 
never  detect  evidences  of  it.  Yet  I  think,  from  what  he  told  me, 
that  even  then  the  grace  of  God  was  sought  by  him,  to  enable 
him  to  fight  his  little  battles  with  self.  He  frequently  spoke  of 
Bunyan's  Holy  War,  of  which  he  was  an  enthusiastic  reader. 

In  1862,  he  made  me  a  visit  in  Orford,  N.  H.  I  found  him  no 
longer  the  little  boy  in  frock  and  apron,  but  a  gentlemanly  lad  of 
about  fourteen,  grave  and  thoughtful  beyond  his  years,  yet  relish- 
ing sport,  often  witty  in  his  remarks  and  a  remarkably  good  con- 
versationalist. 

When  eight  years  old  Eddie  invented  a  wonderful  game, 
naming  himself  president,  and  his  mother  vice-president. 
There  were  forty-four  cards  of  an  unknown  number,  which 
the  players  were  to  guess.  The  president  was  to  lay  on  the 
table  a  card  with  the  number  down,  and  all  could  guess 
around  five  times,  the  vice-president  keeping  a  record  of  all 
the  guesses.  As  might  be  expected,  when  there  was  so 
wide  a  berth,  no  one  succeeded,  so  the  card  was  put  back, 
and  another  tried,  with  the  same  results.  Great  merriment 
followed  at  the  discovery  of  the  endless  round  in  which  the 
players  were  involved.  At  last,  Eddie's  father  suggested 
that  he  should  announce  in  what  ten  the  number  was  con- 
tained, with  which  modification  the  young  president  was 
satisfied. 

Quite  early  Eddie  commenced  keeping  a  journal,  and  to 
please  his  mother,  wrote  in  it  regularly  wherever  he  might 
be.  At  one  time,  accounts  of  some  of  his  New  York  visits 
were  written  in  Robert  Carter's  bookstore,  while  a  guest 
for  a  day  or  two  at  his  brother's,  whom  he  called  Uncle 
Peter. 

In  my  vacation  I  studied  just  as  hard  as  I  could  in  Latin, 
catching  up  with  the  class,  and  so  commencing  in  the  Academy. 
In  the  beginning  of  the  term  they  proposed  me  as  a  member  of 
the  Clio  (a  literary  society)  but  on  account  of  my  being  so  young, 
I  wasn't  accepted.  In  the  latter  part  of  the  term,  I  was  proposed 
again,  and  sent  out  into  the  hall.  But  I  heard  almost  every  word. 
One  of  the  boys  said  tha»  Eddie  Lawrence  knew  as  much  as  any 
of  them,  and  had  as  good  a  chance  to  become  president  of  the 
United  States.    I  was  accepted   by   a  large   majority.    I  will  now 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


15 


write  my  first  speech.  The  question  was, —  "Is  the  world  growing 
better?"  I  spoke  on  the  affirmative,  as  follows: — 

"Mr.  President." 

"Mr.  Lawrence." 

"It  is  my  opinion  that  the  world  is  growing  better.  In  the  late 
war  with  Russia,  Bibles  were  introduced,  and  were  the  means  of 
converting  a  good  many.  And  the  missionaries  are  daily  con- 
verting more  and  more  to  Christianity.  And  in  England,  slavery, 
which  sometime  ago,  prevailed  to  a  great  extent,  is  now  entirely 
abolished.  And  intemperance  and  slavery,  in  the  United  States, 
are  daily  losing  strength." 

The  president  decided  on  the  same  side  that  I  spoke. 

The  second  time,  I  spoke  on  the  question,  "Ought  scientific 
knowledge  to  be  diffused  through  all  classes?"  I  thought  in  the 
affirmative,  but,  as  I  was  a  substitute,  I  had  to  take  the  other  side. 
I  spoke  as  follows: — "Mr.  President,  Scientific  knowledge  had  not 
ought  to  be  introduced  among  all  classes,  for,  perhaps,  while  a  man 
is  studying  for  this,  his  family  may  be  perishing,  or  even  if  he  has 
obtained  it,  he  may  be  so  absorbed  in  it  as  to  forget  all  about  his 
family  and  they  will  starve." 

A  great  favorite  with  the  children  of  those  days  was 
Merry's  Museum,  at  that  time  owned  and  edited  by  J.  N. 
Stearns,  who,  later,  until  his  death,  was  the  efficient  Secre- 
tary of  the  National  Temperance  Society.  As  Eddie's  elder 
sister  had  sent  several  letters  for  his  "Monthly  Chat,"  Eddie 
wished  to  do  the  same,  and  was  not  a  little  set  up  when  the 
following  appeared  in  print : — 

Dear  Mr.  Merry; — 

I  like  your  Museum  very  much,  indeed,  and  I 
should  like  it  if  it  came  every  week.  I  have  a  little  baby-sister,  and 
she  was  born  on  my  seventh  birthday.  I  shall  be  very  glad  when 
you  come  to  see  us,  and  I  think  we  shall  have  fine  times.  Will  you 
please  tell  Uncle  Hiram  Hatchet,  if  he  comes  with  you,  and  if  he 
has  any  children — that  I  should  like  to  have  him  keep  them  pretty 
far  away,  because,  perhaps,  they  might  cut  me.  My  little  sister 
Annie  is  a  darling  sister,  and  I  love  her  very  much  indeed.  She  is 
full  of  mischief,  tipping  over  pitchers  of  water,  and  getting  the  ashes 
out  of  papa's  stove  all  over  his  study  floor. 

Yours  affectionately, 

Alick. 

East  Windsor  Hill,  Conn.,  Jan.  26th,  1856. 

Dear  Mr.  Merry: — 

I  study  arithmetic,  read,  spell  and  study  geography 
at  school.  In  arithmetic  I  have  advanced  as  far  as  to  multiplication 
of  United  States  currency,  and  in  geography  I  am  studying  about 
Europe.  It  is  splendid  sliding  down  our  steep  hills  here.  The  ice 
was  so  thick  on  the  ground  and  the  trees  at  Christmas  that  Santa 
Claus  slipped  down  with  all  his  load  of  presents,  and  came  near 


1 6     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


stopping  his  travels  forever.  The  sidewalk  has  become  so  slippery 
one  can  scarcely  walk  on  it. 

At  Christmas,  we  had  a  Christmas  tree  and  Santa  Claus  made  us 
a  visit  in  person,  coming  in  at  the  back  door  and  complaining  of 
the  houses  being  built  nowadays  without  fireplaces.  Our  tree  was 
lighted  up  with  tapers  of  all  colors,  which  gave  it  a  very  bright, 
pretty  appearance,  showing  all  kinds  of  fruits,  covered  with  glitter- 
ing gold  leaf.  While  a  number  of  young  men  were  waiting,  in 
came  Santa  Claus,  dressed  all  in  shaggy  furs,  with  a  long,  ancient- 
looking  cue  hanging  down  his  back,  and  with  a  great  load  of 
presents.  He  complained  that  he  was  getting  old  and  couldn't  see 
without  specs.  Mother  asked  him  if  he  would  like  hers,  but  he  told 
her  he  would  rather  have  her  re-spects. 

At  New  Year's  we  picked  the  tree,  and  among  the  presents  I 
received  was  an  alarm  clock.  On  my  birthday  I  had  a  few 
presents,  too.  But  I  fear  my  letter  is  getting  too  long,  so  I  must 
close.  Yours  affectionately, 

Alick. 

And  Mr.  Stearns  adds  :  "You  are  a  lucky  boy,  Alick.  We 
hope  your  clock  will  wake  you  up  betimes.  When  Santa 
Claus  grumbled  about  your  new-fashioned  house  we  hope 
you  did  not  give  him  a-lick." 

In  the  March  AI uscum  of  the  same  year,  Mr.  Stearns  says, 
in  his  "Monthly  Chat :"  "Here  comes  Alick — has  been 
frozen  up  since  January — just  thawed  out — has  lots  of 
things  to  say,  and  don't  know  which  to  say  first.   Say  on, 

^lick-"  East  Windsor  Hill,  March,  1856. 

Dear  Mr.  Merry: — 

I  wonder  how  the  people  in  the  balloon  got 
fixed  in  there?  I  wish  I  could  see  Gilbert  Go-a-head.  I  shouldn't 
care  if  the  Museum  came  every  day.  I'm  in  the  sixth  volume  of 
Rollins's  History.  I  ain't  two  boys,  though  you  know  me  as  Eddie, 
and  I  sign  myself  Alick  (for  Alexander,  my  middle  name.)  I  wish 
there  were  more  letters  and  more  conundrums  in  the  Chat.  It  is  all 
occupied  with  that  magic  square.  Please  not  to  box  me.  I  hope 
that  I  shall  go  with  you  next  time  in  your  balloon  travels.  I 
should  like  to  know  who  Aunt  Sue  is. 

From  your  affectionate  friend, 

Alick. 

When  Eddie  was  about  ten,  there  came  to  Dingle  Side 
Miss  Anna  IMaria  Anable,  of  whom  Fanny  Forester,  wife  of 
the  missionary,  Adoniram  Judson,  had  been  a  most  devoted 
friend.  She  brought  with  her  Emily  Judson,  of  whom  her 
mother  wrote, — 

Ere  last  year's  moon  had  left  the  sky 

A  birdling  sought  our  Indian  nest. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


17 


When  Emily  was  left  an  orphan,  Miss  Anable  adopted 
her.   Of  this  visit,  she  writes  : — 

On  Sunday  afternoon,  Dr.  Lawrence,  at  the  family  gathering, 
questioned  Eddie  as  to  the  morning  sermon.  To  my  surprise,  he 
gave  a  distinct  analysis  of  it,  with  details  and  illustrations,  show- 
ing a  degree  of  memory  and  attention  worthy  of  a  bright  boy  of 
seventeen.  He  well  fulfilled  the  promise  of  his  boyhood,  seeming 
to  me  one  of  those  exceptional  characters,  like  Denison  of  East 
London,  destined  to  be  transplanted  early  to  the  celestial  gardens. 

The  22nd  of  August,  1857,  had  been  appointed  for  the 
gathering  at  Dingle  Side  of  all  the  accessible  sons  and 
daughters  of  missionaries  in  Turkey.  It  was  a  day  of 
bright  anticipations  for  Eddie,  who  was  greatly  excited  over 
the  announcement,  on  the  previous  day,  that  Dr.  and  Mrs. 
Schauffler  from  Constantinople  were  crossing  the  ferry. 
While  in  England  they  had  heard  of  the  proposed  gathering 
and  had  hastened  on  to  America,  and  then  to  East  Windsor 
Hill,  in  order  to  be  present  on  the  great  day.  All  this,  with 
the  surprise  of  the  Schauffler  boys  and  the  wonderful  Orien- 
tal greetings,  were  recorded  by  Eddie  in  his  journal. 

He  early  showed  that  interest  in  people  for  which  later 
he  was  distinguished.  In  travelling,  he  would  be  attracted 
by  an  honest  face  and  would  go  and  sit  by  its  owner,  and 
then  come  back  with  his  name  and  quite  a  story  about 
him.  Sometimes,  when  we  needed  a  carriage,  he  would  ask 
to  sit  on  the  box  with  the  coachman,  with  whom  he  would 
have  an  earnest  talk,  bidding  him  a  cordial  good-bye  when 
he  left. 

Investigation  into  all  sorts  of  things  was  a  real  passion 
with  him.  He  was  resolved,  he  said,  to  study  Chinese  and 
all  the  languages.  Of  his  own  accord,  when  eight,  he  took 
hold  of  the  German  grammar,  and  it  was  amusing  to  hear 
him  running  over  its  tsays  so  distinctly. 

In  his  journal  he  writes  : — 

Dec.  19th,  1857. 

Last  night  I  spoke  in  Clio  on  the  question, — "Was  the  banish- 
ment of  Napoleon  to  St.  Helena  justifiable?"  I  spoke  in  the 
affirmative.  "Mr.  President,  In  order  to  discuss  this  question  right, 
it    is  necessary    briefly  to    consider    the    history  and  designs  of 


l8      REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Napoleon.  One  of  his  plans  was  called  the  Federative  System, 
by  which  the  different  states  on  the  continent  were  to  preserve  an 
apparent  independence,  whenever  it  did  not  thwart  his  schemes. 
By  the  aid  of  these  states  he  planned  to  conquer  the  world." 

Dec.  3ist. 

Last  night,  I  was  kept  after  school,  because  I  had  not  learned 
my  lesson.  It  was  the  first  time  since  I  have  been  in  the  Academy, 
and  I  hope  it  will  be  the  last.  This  is  the  last  day  of  the  year,  1858. 
In  looking  it  over  how  many  things  I  see  that  I  have  done  which 
I  oughl  not  to  have  done,  and  how  many  things  I  have  not  done 
which  I  ought  to  have  done!  During  the  next  year,  I  am  going 
to  try  to  do  better,  and  I  am  going  to  pray  to  God  to  help  me 
do  better. 

Feb.  loth. 

To  night,  after  school,  I  ripped  a  bag  so  as  to  make  towels  of  it. 
Oh,  how  sorry  I  am  that  mother  is  sick!  I  wish  that  I  could  do 
everything  right  and  be  a  better  boy.  There  are  four  things  that 
I  must  try  to  do.  First,  to  be  obedient  to  father  and  mother. 
Second,  kind  to  my  sister.  Third,  faithful  in  everything  that  I  have 
to  do.    Fourth,  govern  my  temper. 

March. 

I  have  been  working  on  the  sewing  machine,  which  goes  nicely 
now.  I  will  write  all  that  I  have  done  upon  it: — four  pairs  of 
drawers,  two  night-gowns,  one  pair  of  trousers  for  myself,  and  a 
pair  of  overalls,  besides  sewing  on  a  blanket  and  some  other  things. 

April  5th,  1859. 

Yesterday  was  election  day.  On  the  state  ticket,  the  Democrats 
and  Republicans  were  ties,  and  on  the  Congressmen,  the  Demo- 
crats carried  it  by  fourteen  votes.  I  like  the  Anabasis  much  better 
than  Crosby's  Greek  Lessons. 

May  loth. 

I  don't  think  I  have  been  quite  faithful  in  my  practice.  Saturday, 
instead  of  two  hours,  I  only  practised  one.  So  I  must  make  that 
up.  Yesterday,  as  I  was  practising,  there  came  a  thunder-storm, 
and  so  I  stopped  and  did  not  make  it  up.  Then  I  have  played  when 
I  went  on  errands,  and  have  read  when  I  was  changing  my  clothes, 
and  in  the  morning  I  forgot  all  about  my  drawing  lesson.  But  I 
will  try  to  do  better. 

May  2ist. 

I  will  now  write  a  few  sentiments : 

One  hour  lost  in  the  morning  by  lying  in  bed  will  put  back  all 
the  business  of  the  day. 

One  hour  gained  by  rising  early  is  worth  a  month  in  the  year. 
One  unruly  animal  will  teach  all  others  in  its  company  bad  tricks. 
One  drunkard  will  keep  his  family  poor  and  make  them  miserable. 


CHAPTER  III. 


HOME  LIFE  AND  ACy\DEMY  DAYS. 

Thou,  whose  exterior  semblance  doth  belie 
Thy  soul's  immensity! 
************* 

Mighty  prophet!  seer  blest! 

On  whom  those  truths  do  rest, 
Which  we  are  toiling  all  our  lives  to  find, 
In  darkness  lost,  the  darkness  of  the  grave; 
Thou,  over  whom  thy  immortality 
Broods  like  the  day,  a  master  o'er  a  slave, 
A  presence  which  is  not  to  be  put  by! 
Thou  little  child,  yet  glorious  in  the  might 
Of  heaven-born  freedom  on  thy  being's  height. 

— Wordsworth. 

When  twelve,  Eddie  started  alone  on  a  visiting  trip  in  the 
old  Bay  State.  It  was  a  great  occasion,  and  he  locked  his 
travelling  bag  and  put  the  key  in  his  pocket  with  a  dignity 
amusing  to  behold.  He  was  a  little  disturbed  at  learning 
that  one  of  the  professors  was  going  on  the  same  train, 
lest  he  might  interfere  with  his  prerogative,  but  a  few  re- 
assuring words  quieted  him. 

Besides  his  frequent  letters  home,  he  was  faithful  to  his 
journal,  a  thing  not  easy  when  travelling.  In  this  way  he 
gives  a  full  account  of  his  sight-seeing  in  Boston  and  other 
places, — the  Aquarial  Gardens,  where  he  shook  hands  with 
an  alligator ;  the  Navy  Yard  at  Charlestown,  going  through 
the  whole  length  of  the  rope-walk ;  the  State  Prison,  where 
he  picked  up  much  information ;  the  Blind  Asylum  at  South 
Boston,  where  he  talked  with  Catherine  Hill  and  Laura 
Bridgman ;  the  watch  manufactory  at  Waltham,  bringing 
away  some  of  the  spoils ;  then  at  the  seaside  in  Marblehead, 
where  he  rowed  and  sailed  to  his  heart's  content. 

September. 

After  I  returned  home,  I  applied  for  the  situation  of 
bell-ringer.    As  there  was  another  applicant,  it  was  decided  that  I 


20     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


should  have  the  position  for  half  the  term,  and  the  other  applicant 
for  the  remaining  half. 

On  Monday,  I  took  father  and  mother  to  Warehouse  Point.  On 
the  way,  we  had  a  general  talk  about  getting  a  horse,  mother  and 
I  were  pro  and  father  was  con.  Finally  he  concluded  to  keep  his 
eye  on  the  lookout  for  a  horse.  And  he  wrote  to  Air.  Farrar  to 
find  one,  and  we  soon  got  a  letter  telling  us  when  it  would  come 
in  the  cars  to  Hartford.  So  we  went  down,  and  a  saddle  was  put  on 
him,  and  I  rode  up  home,  being  pretty  tired  when  we  got  there. 
We  named  the  horse  Cherry  Lawrence,  and  not  long  after  father 
went  to  Springfield  on  horseback  and  bought  a  nice  carriage,  in 
which  he  soon  went  to  meet  mother,  which  was  a  great  surprise 
to  her. 

In  November,  in  acceptance  of  an  invitation  to  pass 
Thanksgiving  at  Alount  Holyoke  Seminary,  we  all  set  forth 
in  the  new  carriage.  As  we  were  approaching  the  build- 
ing, Eddie,  having  learned  that  all  the  inmates  were  of  the 
woman  kind,  gravely  remarked,  "Then  father  and  I  shall  be 
the  only  gentlemen  there." 

Of  this  visit,  Mrs.  Helen  M.  Gulliver  writes : — 

In  memory  I  go  back  to  1859,  when  you  all  came  to  spend 
Thanksgiving  with  us  at  Alt.  Holyoke  Seminary.  Edward  impressed 
me  then,  and  afterwards,  when  I  visited  you  at  East  Windsor,  as 
a  lad  of  great  promise.  One  could  but  admire  his  exquisite  man- 
ners, his  gentleness  and  sweetness,  and  his  thoughtfulness  for  others. 
His  conversation  even  then  revealed  his  mental  ability,  and  the 
habit  of  laying  up  stores  of  useful  information. 

In  his  journal,  he  writes  : — 

On  our  return  home  I  was  left  at  Springfield,  to  make  a  visit  at 
Dr.  Rice's.  While  there  I  got  what  I  had  been  desiring  for  a  long 
time,  a  set  of  chessmen  and  a  chess-board. 

Sunday  morning,  the  minister  in  his  sermon  said  that  a  person 
might  go  through  a  bright  course,  like  that  of  Wilberforce,  or  a 
vapid,  useless  one,  like  that  of  John  Brown.  Instantly  there  came 
"Three  cheers  for  John  Brown!" 

I  received  a  short  time  ago  a  fine  chest  of  tools  from  Mr.  Worth- 
ington  of  New  York,  and  I  am  planning  to  do  great  things  with 
them.    (This  chest  of  tools  is  still  preserved.) 

Christmas,  1858. 

In  the  afternoon,  just  before  supper.  Uncle  Leonard  came  in  the 
stage  from  Hartford.  Pretty  soon,  Mr.  Painter,  one  of  the  students, 
came,  and  then  mother  and  Air.  Bissell  went  with  him  into  the 
parlor,  and  were  there  a  long  time,  making  him  into  Santa  Claus. 
By  and  by  they  called  me  in  and  changed  me  into  one  of  his  imps. 
At  length,  Santa  Claus  began  to    make  a  loud    noise  and  finally 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


21 


walked  in,  I  following  at  his  heels.  Father  inquired  about  Mrs. 
Santa  Claus,  and  he  replied  that  "he  had  lived  1700  years,  and  the 
reason  was  he  had  had  no  wife,  and  so  been  without  cares." 

Feb.,  1859. 

I  got  home  about  one  o'clock.  After  dinner,  I  rubbed  down 
Cherry,  cut  some  hay,  cleared  out  part  of  my  shop,  took  the 
horse  down  to  have  his  shoes  sharpened,  walked  back,  worked  in 
my  shop,  and  did  some  other  things,  walked  again  to  the  black- 
smith's and  brought  the  horse  back,  and  finished  my  work.  In 
the  evening,  I  read  aloud  for  a  time,  and  then  mother  read,  while 
I  cut  papers  for  pasting. 

March. 

Last  night  I  received  my  fiftieth  ticket,  and  with  it  a  jack-knife 
mother  promised  me  when  I  got  fifty  tickets.  I  was  to  have  one 
every  day  that  I  controlled  my  temper.  It  is  a  splendid  knife, 
sharp  as  can  be. 

We  have  one  horse,  one  cow,  nine  hens,  one  rooster,  one  cat, 
one  pair  of  pigeons,  one  carriage,  one  wagon,  one  sleigh,  one  work- 
shop, one  box  of  tools,  some  hay,  some  straw,  one  ice  boat,  one 
pasture,  one  museum,  one  helper,  two  sisters,  one  garden,  three 
stables,  one  barnyard,  two  arbors,  some  money,  two  parents,  no 
brother,  two  yards,  one  bird  cage,  one  bird,  one  set  of  chessmen, 
one  chess-board,  one  chess-book,  one  magician's  book,  one  col- 
lection of  puzzles. 

About  this  time  Eddie  got  up  a  panorama,  as  he  called  it, 
on  what  seemed  an  interminable  roll  of  paper,  which  he  ex- 
hibited to  interested  spectators  with  an  enthusiasm  pleasant 
to  behold.  The  programme  was  prepared  at  his  dictation : — 


Ipanorama. 


Scene  ist.  California.  ist  part. 

Music. 

Scene  2d.  California.  2d  part. 

Music. 

Scene  3d.  Miscellaneous.  Panorama. 

Music. 

Scene  4th.  Misc.    Pan.  Concluded. 

Music. 
Diorama. 

The  Army.     The  Dancers.     The  King  and  his  Attendants.  The 
Man  and  the  Bear. 

Music. 

The  following  are  extracts  from  his  journal : — 

There  is  a  poor  prospect  for  next  term,  as  a  number  of  the 
scholars  have  to  stay  at  home  and  water  that  odious,  noxious,  de- 


2  2      REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


testable,  hateful,  baneful,  injurious,  harmful,  low,  mean,  dirty  weed 
that  the  worms  love  so  well— Tobacco — which  I  hate  in  every  form. 

I  am  now  making  a  collection  of  autographs,  cents  of  every  year, 
postage  stamps  and  a  small  block  of  wood  of  every  kind.  I  have 
the  bark  on  one  side  as  it  has  been  split,  on  another,  planed,  on 
another,  smoothed,  and  polished  on  still  another.  I  have  cents  of 
thirty-four  different  years,  I  believe.  A  few  days  ago,  when  at 
Hartford.  I  visited  Mrs.  Sigourney,  and  she  gave  me  her  autograph. 
Then  I  have  set  thirteen  traps  for — alas!  don't  think  hard  of  me — 
for  the  poor,  innocent  birds! 

One  day  at  the  breakfast  table,  father  and  mother  said  they 
were  going  to  Hartford.  As  Thomas  Corwin,  the  senator  from 
Ohio,  was  going  to  lecture  in  the  evening.  I  asked  mother  if  I 
might  go  down  with  them  and  stop  at  Mr.  Bird's  and  hear  him.  At 
last,  she  said  I  might.  .  .  In  the  evening,  after  an  address  from 
Senator  Wilson  of  Massachusetts,  Thomas  Corwin,  the  wagon- 
boy  of  Missouri,  was  introduced  with  great  applause.  His  speech 
was  very  witty.  He  said  it  had  been  found  that,  instead  of  God's 
making  man  to  earn  bread  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  he  made  the 
nigger  to  sweat  for  him.  Afterwards  we  followed  the  torchlight 
procession,  about  3.000  people,  and  a  mile  and  a  half  long.  We 
reached  Mr.  Bird's  at  about  half  past  eleven,  and  then  I  went  to  bed. 

The  subject  for  the  Clio,  this  week,  was,  "Resolved,  that  the 
Democratic  party  ought  to  be  sustained."  One  of  the  disputants 
remarked  that  the  African  would  never  be  equal  to  the  white  man, 
and  said  several  things  against  the  Africans.  So,  upsprang  I,  on 
the  other  side — for  I  am  bound  to  defend  the  African  race — and 
spoke  concerning  the  equality  of  men,  &c.,  &c.  The  question  was 
finally  decided  on  my  side. 

The  week  after,  he  writes  : — 

I  just  got  home  in  time  for  the  Clio.  "Is  the  raising  of  tobacco 
morally  wrong?"  I  spoke  in  the  affirmative.  The  president  did 
not  decide  the  question.    I  was  appointed  orator  for  the  next  week. 

In  the  stimmer  of  i860,  he  left  home  to  spend  a  few  weeks 
in  Massachtisetts.  He  had  made  several  pleasant  visits, 
when,  as  he  writes  in  his  journal, — 

I  received  a  letter  from  mother,  saying  that,  if  I  wished,  I  might 
go  to  New  York  and  see  the  Great  Eastern.  I  instantly  replied 
that  I  would  go.  giving  up  the  rest  of  my  visits.  I  went  by  Fall 
River  to  New  York,  where  Mr.  Worthington  met  me,  taking  me  at 
night  to  his  house  in  Brooklyn.  Dr.  Field,  of  the  Evangelist,  gave 
me  free  tickets,  and  also  kindly  arranged  to  have  his  nephew 
take  me  to  Central  Park  and  High  Bridge.  Mr.  Worthington 
went  with  me  to  the  Great  Eastern.  It  was  not  till  I  had  been  all 
over  her,  and  had  nearly  been  lost  in  her,  that  I  had  any  idea  of 
her  size. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


23 


He  describes  his  visits  to  Barnum's  Museum,  Niblo's 
Gardens  and  other  places,  and  his  attendance,  Sunday,  at 
Henry  Ward  Beecher's  and  Trinity  Church,  "having  learned 
more  about  New  York,"  as  Mr.  Worthington  wrote  mc, 
"than  many  who  had  lived  there  all  their  lives." 

However  the  mother-heart  would  delay  it,  the  time  comes 
when  it  seems  best  that  the  child  should  leave  the  home- 
nest.  It  is  a  sad  hour  to  the  departing  one,  but  far  more 
so  to  those  who  remain  and  who  know  that  it  is  probably  the 
beginning  of  years  of  absence. 

When  Edward  was  thirteen  it  was  decided  to  send  him 
away,  mainly  for  the  study  of  French  and  German.  He 
writes,  in  his  journal,  August  26th,  i860: — 

This  is  the  last  Sunday  I  shall  spend  at  home  for  some  time,  as 
I  am  going  away  to  school  at  Easthampton.  I  must  study  hard. 
I  must  try  to  do  right,  and  to  resist  the  many  temptations  I  shall 
meet.  I  must  go  to  church  regularly,  and  not  forget  my  Bible 
and  prayers. 

In  his  first  letter,  he  says  :  "There  is  one  thing  I  miss 
here,  and  that  is  family  prayers.  Some  of  the  boys,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  I  do  not  like,  for  they  use  bad  language.  In- 
deed, you  can  hardly  go  along  the  street  without  hearing 
some  one  swear.  I  try  to  keep  a  watch  over  my  tongue,  and 
also  to  reprove  them  when  I  get  a  chance.  I  sometimes  ask 
them  to  go  out  of  my  room,  if  they  want  to  swear." 
Then  follow  extracts  written  all  along : — 

Oh,  I  wish  the  time  would  fly  faster!  I  like  to  go  to  the  prayer- 
meeting,  Sunday  night,  partly,  I  am  afraid,  because  I  should  be 
more  homesick  in  my  room.  I  don't  think  I  have  forgotten  the 
Bible  and  my  prayers  but  once,  and  I  hope  it  will  be  the  last  time. 

Father  said,  truly,  that  mother  knew  how  to  make  up  a  bundle. 
The  grapes  I  have  shared  with  my  friends,  the  apples  I  have  put 
in  my  trunk.  I  have  never  spent  a  single  cent  for  confectionery,  and 
don't  intend  to. 

During  all  his  school  and  his  college  days  his  washing 
was  sent  home,  giving  an  opportunity  to  return  welcome 
parcels. 


24     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


I  am  frantic  with  joy,  to  think  mother  is  coming  to  see  me.  I 
should  like  to  have  her  bring  me  a  copy  of  the  Songs  of  Zion  (a 
book  used  in  his  home  at  prayers).  .  .  J  1  have  begun  Sprague's 
Annals  which  mother  wished  me  to  read.  .  .  When  the  pop- 
corn is  ripe,  please  have  mine  taken  ofif  and  husked,  as  I  shall  want 
to  bring  it  here  next  term. 

Now,  only  one  more  Sunday!  Oh,  how  I  shall  jump  for  joy, 
when  I  get  home!   It  is  about  all  I  can  think  of. 

On  his  return  he  writes : 

Easthampton,  Dec.  5th,  i860. 
This   afternoon   I   have   been   so  homesick   that  I  felt  as  if  I 
could  cry  for  an  hour.    At  supper,  we  had  nice  chicken  pie,  but 
after  two  or  three  mouthfuls,  I  had  to  ask  to  be  excused. 

Dec.  8th. 

Words  cannot  express  how  I  have  felt.  I  do  so  wish  I  was  at 
home. 

Dec.  I2th. 

Tears  came  to  my  eyes  while  I  was  in  Perkins'  room,  subscrib- 
ing for  the  missionary  society. 

Dear  Father: — 

As  I  sit  down  to  write,  I  feel  miserably  homesick. 
Oh,  I  wish  something  could  be  found  to  cure  homesickness!  Near- 
ly fifteen  weeks  before  I  shall  see  you  all  again.  Oh,  dear,  I  don't 
know  what  to  do!    I  wish  mother  would  come  for  a  few  days. 

Dec.  15th. 

Last  night,  I  went  to  the  Adelphi.  The  question  was  some- 
thing like  this: — "Resolved,  that  the  influences  tending  towards 
the  perpetuation  of  the  Union  are  greater  than  those  tending  to 
the  dissolution."  After  an  interesting  debate,  the  president  decided 
in  the  negative,  on  the  weight  of  argument,  and  the  house  de- 
cided in  the  afifirmative  on  the  merits  of  the  question. 

Jan.  sth,  1861. 

My  name  was  propounded  for  the  Adelphi,  a  week  ago.  Last 
night  they  received  me  by  a  vote  of  forty-three  out  of  forty-nine. 
I  am  the  youngest  member  of  the  Adelphi,  and  the  youngest  boy 
in  school.  I  wish  you  would  send  me  Cushing's  Manual.  .  .  . 
Please  don't  tell  everybody  about  my  being  so  homesick.  .  .  I 
suppose  we  can  say  of  South  Carolina:  Abiit!   Evasit!  Rumpit! 

Not  long  before  his  return  he  writes :  "I  feel  so 
happy,  because  I  am  going  home  so  soon,  that  I  want  to 
jump  for  joy,  and  fear  I  may  some  day  hit  my  head  against 
the  ceiling." 

Easthampton,  April,  1861. 
To-night  we  raised  a  flagstaff  on  the  top  of  the  Seminary,  so  that 
the  stars  and  strips  are  waving  above  our  heads.    It  is  dreadful  to 


\ 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


25 


think  of  taking  deliberate  aim  to  kill  one's  own  countrymen.  But  we 
are  forced  upon  the  battlefield,  and  we  have  the  God  of  justice  on 
our  side.  President  Lincoln  has  displayed  a  most  Christian  for- 
bearance, but  it  would  be  a  sin  to  keep  quiet  any  longer. 

Ned  had  now  completed  his  year  at  Easthampton.  Feel- 
ing that,  if  he  at  once  pursued  his  preparatory  course  for 
college,  he  would  enter  rather  young,  his  parents  decided 
that  a  year  in  special  studies  at  the  Chandler  Scientific 
School  in  Hanover  might  be  the  wisest  course,  and  his 
mother,  while  on  a  visit  there,  made  arrangements  for  this. 
When  the  plan  was  made  known  to  him,  he  was  full  of 
questions.  "On  first  reading  mother's  letter,"  he  writes  his 
father,  "I  hardly  liked  the  plan,  for  I  was  expecting  to  spend 
the  next  year  at  home,  but  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion 
that,  on  the  whole,  it  is  the  best  thing  to  be  done.  How 
large  a  place  is  Hanover?  How  many  are  there  in  the 
Chandler  School?  I  should  like  to  take  up  mineralogy- 
next  year.  Do  they  study  that  there?  Cannot  you  send 
me  a  catalogue?  What  is  the  price  of  room  and  board? 
Have  I  a  nice  room?  How  many  windows  are  there?  Is 
there  a  gymnasium  in  the  town?  Who  is  the  principal,  and 
how  many  teachers  are  there?  How  far  is  Hanover  from 
St.  Johnsbury?" 

In  his  vacation,  he  writes  in  his  journal :  "We  have  just 
received  both  bad  news  and  good  news.  There  has  been  a 
great  national  victory  in  Missouri,  and  Price  and  M'Culloch 
are  killed,  but  on  our  side  Gen.  Lyon  is  killed ;  23,000  rebels 
were  defeated  by  8000  nationals  .  In  Lyon,  we  have  lost  an 
able  general  and  a  good  man. 

"Last  night  further  news  came  of  the  battle  in  Missouri. 
Price  and  M'Culloch  were  not  killed,  but  Gen.  Lyon  was. 
There  were  only  5,500  Federal  troops  engaged,  and  the 
battle  is  considered  drawn." 

The  acquaintance  which  Edward  made  with  William  Rice 
in  November,  1854,  was  continued  by  correspondence  and 
an  exchange  of  visits.   This  same  William,  now  Prof.  Wil- 


26     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Ham  North  Rice  of  the  Wesleyan  University  at  Middletown, 
writes,  recently,  of  Edward's  first  visit  in  Springfield  : — 

Both  of  us  were  fond  of  mineralogy  and  some  other  depart- 
ments of  Natural  Science.  Both  of  us  were  making  collections, 
and  we  had  a  good  many  things  to  talk  about,  as  we  looked  over 
my  boyish  treasures.  Some  time  after,  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
visiting  him  at  East  Windsor.  I  shall  never  forget  the  atmosphere 
of  mutual  af?ection  in  that  home.  .  .  I  was  strongly  impressed 
with  Edward's  love  of  study  and  his  conscientiousness.  I  remem- 
ber, in  one  of  his  letters,  he  said  his  motto  was, — "Take  care  of  the 
body,  take  care  of  the  mind,  take  care  of  the  soul,"  and  then  he 
spoke  of  the  temptations  which  beset  every  earnest  student  to  neg- 
lect the  care  of  health  and  the  religious  life  in  his  overwork  at 
study. 

Prof.  Rice's  mother  adds:  "I  recall  the  impression  Ed- 
ward always  made  upon  me — of  an  attractive,  intellectual 
boy,  thoughtful  beyond  his  years,  and  with  moral  and  relig- 
ious principles  early  developed  ;  so  that,  knowing  what  I  did 
of  the  boy,  the  noble  life  and  character  of  the  man  has  nev- 
er surprised  me." 

In  August,  1861,  Edward  left  home  for  Hanover,  from 
which  place  he  writes:  "Aug.  26th.  I  passed  a  full  exam- 
ination by  Prof.  Woodman  and  he  gave  me  my  certificate. 
The  next  day  I  went  to  Dr.  Lord's  and  showed  him  my  cer- 
tificate and  receipt,  and  he  signed  the  former.  Then,  and 
not  until  then,  was  I  a  member  of  the  Chandler  School."  To 
which  his  father  replied  :  'T  am  glad  you  have  made  an  hon- 
orable entrance  by  the  trap  door  into  Dartmouth  College.  I 
hope  you  will  by  and  by  be  able  to  go  as  easily  into  the  big 
door  of  some  college  and  come  out  honorably  at  the  same." 

Passages  from  his  journal: — 

Sept.  nth. 

To-day,  Longfellow's  poetry  applies: — 

The  day  is  dark  and  dreary. 

It  rains,  and  the  wind  is  never  weary. 

The  Federal  government  seems  to  be  slowly  gaining.  The  na- 
tional loan  is  being  taken,  and  our  troops  are  getting  more  and 
more  disciplined. 


OP  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


27 


September  27th. 

It  is  a  magnificent  day.  The  sky  is  clear  as  crystal,  and  the 
zephyrs  slightly  stir  the  stately  elms,  of  which  so  many  are  to  be 
found  in  Hanover. 

Nov.  1st. 

The  Naval  Expedition  sailed,  Oct.  29th,  and  great  results  are  ex- 
pected from  it.  About  two  months  ago,  I  wrote  to  the  Smithsonian 
Institute,  asking  for  two  pamphlets,  relative  to  making  collections 
of  Natural  History  specimens.  I  had  given  them  up,  but  day  before 
yesterday  they  arrived.  .  .  I  have  commenced  learning  Gold- 
smith's Deserted  Village,  and  think  it  is  beautiful. 

On  Nov.  20th  he  came  home  for  the  long  winter  vaca- 
tion. Arrangements  were  made  for  his  going  twice  a  week 
to  Hartford,  with  his  elder  sister,  to  continue  his  French  and 
German  lessons.  On  Dec.  25th  he  writes:  "On  returning 
from  Hartford,  one  evening,  as  I  was  eating  my  supper, 
mother  brought  down  a  bundle  for  me  to  open.  I  did  so, 
and  found,  to  my  great  surprise,  a  box  containing  my  prom- 
ised flute.  It  is  a  beautiful,  eight-keyed  one,  with  silver  keys 
and  rings.  Henry  Schauffler  selected  it  for  me.  Later,  I 
received  an  instruction  book  from  Lockhart,  the  maker.  I 
practise  upon  it  about  an  hour  a  day.  .  .  I  am  about  half 
through  Spragiic's  Annals." 

Dec.  17th. 

We  went  to  Hartford  to  hear  Edward  Everett  lecture  on  the  war. 
He  is  a  rather  oldish  man,  something  over  sixty,  I  should  think, 
has  gray  hair  and  is  about  middling  size.  He  has  none  of  the  orator- 
ical flourish  that  so  many  put  on,  but  is  perfectly  simple.  And  it 
is  this,  joined  to  his  nicety  in  accent  and  pronunciation,  together 
with  his  style  of  writing,  that  makes  him  so  popular  as  a  lecturer. 
.  .  I  must  write  down  here  a  word  I  have  found  in  Webster's 
Dictionary.    It  is  higgledy-piggledy. 

Jan.  i8th,  1862. 

I  am  studying  phonography  from  Graham's  Handbook,  and  I  am 
reading  with  mother  Madame  de  Stael's  Corinne,  which  I  like 
very  much. 

Feb.  14th. 

Good  news  has  come  from  the  Burnside  expedition.  It  has  taken 
Roanoke  Island  with  2,000  men,  and  also  Elizabeth  City.  It  is 
probable  we  shall  soon  hear  of  the  capture  of  Fort  Donaldson. 

Hanover,  Feb.  28th,  1862. 
When  I  left  home,  at  the  end  of  my  vacation,  Anna  was  crying 
as  hard  as  she  could  cry,  because  I  was  going  away,  and  could  not 
be  comforted.    .    .    In  one  of  our  free  Sunday  evening  talks,  I  had 


28      REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


told  mother  that  sometimes  in  my  recitations,  I  had  looked  in  my 
book  as  the  other  boys  did.  She  talked  with  me,  and  advised  me 
to  tell  Prof.  Woodman  about  it.  So,  when  I  called  to  give  him  a 
note  from  mother,  I  told  him,  and  also  that  I  had  had  some  help 
in  my  drawing.  He  spoke  very  kindly  about  it,  and  said  that  it 
mattered  little  what  we  appeared  to  others,  compared  with  what 
we  really  were. 

March  8th. 

In  the  President's  message,  he  recommends  Congress  to  make 
a  proposition  to  the  slave  states  to  free  their  slaves,  and  to  make 
them  pecuniary  remuneration  for  it.  It  is  a  splendid  thing,  and 
that  message  alone,  it  seems  to  me,  will  cause  Lincoln's  name  to  go 
down  to  posterity  as  that  of  a  great  and  good  man,  a  wise  and 
able  legislator.  .  .  It  is  rumored  that  Napoleon  will  give  the 
papacy  to  Archbishop  Hughes,  when  Pope  Pius  the  Ninth  dies. 

March  17th. 

Sometimes  I  hope  that  I  am  a  Christian.  There  is  hardly  any- 
thing I  enjoy  more  than  hearing  a  religious  conversation.  At  times 
I  feel  great  love  for  Christ,  and  am  willing  to  deny  myself  for 
him.  But  in  my  prayers,  I  rarely  feel  as  I  should.  I  go  through 
them  as  a  mere  form,  and  often  my  thoughts  wander.  Then  I 
have  bad  thoughts  and  do  not  resist  them  as  I  should.  O  Christ, 
will  thou  enlighten  me  and  be  my  guide! 

His  journal  at  this  time  was  full  of  reports  from  the  ar- 
my, and  of  its  great  victories.  He  also  describes  an  ignoble 
fight  he  witnessed  between  the  Sophomores  and  the  Fresh- 
men, because  the  latter  went  to  prayers  with  canes  in  their 
hands.  "Some  of  them,"  he  writes,  "fought  like  bull  dogs, 
throwing  down  fellows  twice  as  large  as  themselves.  Very 
few  went  in  to  prayers,  and  a  great  crowd  was  in  front  of 
the  building.  After  prayers  Prex  came  out,  and  with  an 
umbrella  over  his  head,  went  into  the  midst  of  the  fighters 
and  commanded  them  to  go  to  their  rooms.  They  obeyed 
him." 

The  spring  vacation  Edward  spent  in  St.  Johnsbury,  his 
father's  and  grandfather's  home,  visiting  at  Mr.  Graves'  and 
Mr.  Thaddeus  Fairbanks',  and  seeing  many  of  his  father's 
relatives  and  old  friends. 

Hanover,  June  8th,  1862. 
This  afternoon,  I  saw  Mr.  Leeds  and  talked  with  him  about  join- 
ing the  church.  He  gave  me  the  Confession  of  Faith,  and  said  that 
next  week  I  could  meet  the  Committee.    If  I  understand  it  right- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


29 


ly,  in  thinking  that  in  joining  the  church,  I  engage  with  the  help 
of  God  to  live  a  Christian  life,  then  I  wish  to  join  it 
very  much.  But  if  in  doing  this  I  shall  signify  that  I  love  Christ 
in  the  least  degree  as  I  ought,  then  I  cannot.  Though  I  think  I 
feel  willing  to  do  God's  will,  yet  I  should  not  dare  to  affirm  that 
I  love  him  better  than  anything  on  earth.  And  if  the  question 
should  arise  between  all  I  loved  and  Jesus  Christ,  although  I  hope 
and  trust  it  would  be  for  him,  yet  I  should  not  dare  to  assert  which 
would  prevail. 

At  the  appointed  time  he  was  examined  by  the  Commit- 
tee, and  the  following  Sabbath  joined  the  church. 


CHAPTER  IV- 

AT  PHILLIPS  ACADEMY. 

The  storm-bell  rings,  the  trumpet  blows; 

I  know  the  word  and  countersign; 
Wherever  Freedom's  vanguard  goes, 
Where  stand  or  fall  her  friends  or  foes, 

I  know  the  place  that  should  be  mine. 

Shamed  be  the  hands  that  idly  fold. 

And  lips  that  woo  the  reed's  accord, 
When  laggard  Time  the  hour  has  tolled 
For  true  with  false  and  new  with  old 

To  fight  the  battle  of  the  Lord! 

—John  G.  Whittier. 

At  the  close  of  this  year  at  Chandler's  School  Edward 
returned  home.  But  his  plans  for  his  vacation  were  inter- 
rupted by  the  appearance  of  small  pox  in  his  birthday  sister, 
brought  into  the  family,  unconsciously,  by  a  friend.  As  soon 
as  it  became  known.  Dingle  Side  was  shut  out  from  all  com- 
munication with  the  outside  world.  Edward  was  very  sick, 
but  recovered  in  season  to  go  at  the  appointed  time  to  An- 
dover,  where  he  was  to  spend  two  years  in  Phillips  Acad- 
emy, previous  to  entering  college.  Alluding  to  those  days 
of  suffering  and  seclusion,  he  says  in  one  of  his  letters,  "I 
well  remember  what  a  delicious  feeling  I  had  when  I  walked 
out  in  the  pasture  for  the  first  time,  leaning  on  father's 
arm." 

A  few  quotations  from  his  letters  home  follow : — 

I  have  joined  the  Academy  choir.  And  a  few  weeks  ago  I 
joined  the  Society  of  Inquiry,  a  religious  debating  society.  I  am 
in  a  debate  on  the  question.  Should  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  ever 
engage  in  party  politics?  I  am  on  the  affirmative.  I  feel  as  if  I 
were  in  my  natural  element  when  engaged  in  discussion. 

I  decided  not  to  go  down  to  Boston  to  that  musical  occasion, 
because,  while  you  are  paying  out  so  much  for  me,  I  don't  like  to 
expend  money  for  my  own  indulgences. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


31 


July  5th. 

A  student  came  back  from  the  war  a  few  weeks  ago,  and  is  to  come 
into  our  class.  He  is  over  twenty,  and  a  good  Christian  fellow. 
He  wanted  to  get  a  room  in  Commons,  but  there  was  no  one  vacant, 
and  although  I  would  a  great  deal  rather  room  alone,  I  have  let 
him  come  in  with  me. 

Sept.  28th,  1862. 

Last  Friday  night,  I  went  to  hear  George  Francis  Train  lecture. 
He  seemed  to  me  half  crazy.  His  plan  is  to  knock  the  bottom  out 
of  England,  landing  ten  thousand  Irishmen  there  and  placing  an 
Irishman  on  the  British  throne.  He  says  he  has  met  the  greatest 
intellects  of  the  age,  and  also  says  in  effect  that  no  one  can  beat 
him  in  argument. 

Oct.  loth. 

I  got  your  letter,  this  morning,  which  put  me  into  a  joyful  mood. 
How  can  I  ever  thank  you  enough  for  doing  so  much  for  me? 
There  is  no  end  to  your  love  and  your  interest.  I  shall  like  it 
so  much  to  be  in  Dio  Lewis'  Gymnasium. 

Nov.  23rd. 

I  was  exulting  over  our  last  recitation  in  Latin,  when  I  saw  the 
expressman's  wagon  coming,  and  I  can  tell  you  the  grass  did  not 
grow  under  my  feet  till  I  got  my  bundle.  Those  fall  pippins  were 
delicious.  It  must  have  taken  much  time  to  fit  up  everything  and 
to  write  all  those  letters. 

Boston,  Dec.  7th,  1862. 

Aunty  and  I  went  to  tea  at  Mr.  Peter  Harvey's.  He  has  been 
elected  senator  in  the  legislature.  I  like  him  exceedingly,  al- 
though his  politics  are  miserable,  he  being  a.  semi-secessionist. 
Thursday,  Meta  and  I  called  on  Richard  H.  Dana,  which  was  a 
great  treat  to  me.  .  .  Meta  had  tickets  given  her  to  the  Boston 
Theatre,  where  Booth  was  to  act  as  Hamlet.  She  was  very  de- 
sirous that  I  should  go  with  her,  and  after  father  and  mother  had 
talked  over  the  matter,  mother  wrote  me  that  I  might  go.  We 
had  fine  seats  and  a  good  opera  glass.  Booth  surpassed  all  my 
expectations.  Completely  unconscious  of  any  audience  or  of  him- 
self, he  was  only  Hamlet.  In  some  of  those  heart-rending  scenes, 
where  the  conflict  between  filial  piety  and  his  innate  repugnance 
to  murder  appears,  he  acted  perfectly,  indeed  he  did  not  seem  to 
be  acting.  Those  three  hours  were  some  of  the  most  interesting 
and  profitable  of  my  life. 

On  Sunday  I  attended  the  Church  of  the  Advent,  and  heard 
the  choir  boys  chant  the  Te  Deum.  In  the  afternoon,  Harry  and 
I  went  clear  up  to  the  Church  of  the  Immaculate  Conception  a  mag- 
nificent building.  As  I  had  never  been  in  a  Catholic  church  before, 
is  was  all  new  to  me.  I  noticed  particularly  the  holy  water  at  the 
entrance.  At  one  of  the  fonts  was  a  ragged  little  "fellow  with  a 
bottle  which  he  was  filling  with  this  water.  The  music  was  very 
fine,  and  that  I  enjoyed  exceedingly.  A  little  above,  I  could 
feast  my  eyes  on  a  most  beautiful  painting  of  the  Crucifixion. 

Another  day  I  went  out  to  Cambridge  and  attended  a  lecture 
of  Prof.  Agassiz,  which  was  very  interesting.    I  went  with  Harry 


32      REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

to  the  Aquarial  Gardens,  then  to  Fort  Independence,  and  from 
there  to  Fort  Warren,  where  we  had  to  produce  our  passes,  and 
then  make  our  way  to  the  colonel's  quarters.  He  received  us 
cordially,  and  then  put  us  in  charge  of  one  of  his  aides,  who  took 
us  to  the  rifle  pits,  then  through  the  casemates,  and  finally  showed 
us  where  the  prisoners  of  war  were  confined. 

Andover,  Jan.  28th,  1863. 
Last  Sunday,  some  factory  boys  stole  from  my  room  my  pocket- 
book,  containing  about  $11.00,  and  my  knife.  I  got  all  the  clews 
I  could,  and  then  put  it  into  the  hands  of  the  police.  Suffice  it  to 
say  that  the  whole  is  recovered  ,  and  that,  by  the  advice  of  Dr. 
Taylor,  I  am  going  to  put  the  matter  through,  and  the  boys  will 
probably  be  sent  for  a  time  to  the  State  Reform  School. 

March  26th,  1863. 
Monday  my  examination  passed  off,  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
being  told  that  I  had  made  the  best  rush  of  any  one  in  the  class. 
.  .  The  question  in  Philo,  next  week,  is  "Ought  Lincoln  to  be 
nominated  for  the  next  president?"  I  mean  to  go  for  the  affirma- 
tive with  all  my  force.  It  is  a  very  broad  question  and,  of  course, 
will  cover  a  good  deal  of  ground. 

Later,  he  writes :  "I  closed  the  question  for  the  afifirm- 
ative,  and  spoke  over  twenty  minutes,  though  it  did  not 
seem  more  than  ten.  The  night  before,  I  spoke  in  the  So- 
ciety of  Inquiry  on  the  negative  of  the  question,  'Ought  in- 
toxicating liquors  to  be  allowed  in  the  army?'  Our  side 
was  victorious." 

After  his  return  to  Andover,  at  the  end  of  a  brief  vaca- 
tion, he  writes  :  "The  train  from  Springfield  was  twenty 
minutes  late,  so  that  it  was  5.15  when  we  got  in,  and  the 
train  left  the  Boston  &  Maine  station  at  six,  clear  off  at  the 
other  end  of  the  city.  Then  I  had  my  carpet  bag  and  a 
bundle  to  carry.  I  stopped  on  the  way  and  got  the  library 
books,  and  then,  with  this  other  bundle,  rushed  along.  At 
last,  nearly  wearied  out,  I  came  in  sight  of  the  station  and 
saw  by  the  clock  that  it  only  wanted  three  or  four  minutes 
of  six,  and  I  still  had  some  distance  to  go.  So  I  rushed  on, 
slamming  my  bag  against  some  one's  knees,  with  a  hurried 
'Excuse  me,'  and  on  I  hastened,  until  I  passed  into  the  cars, 
and  of¥  they  started."  Ned's  first  recitation  with  Dr.  Taylor 
came  in  his  senior  year. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


33 


Sept.  6th,  1863. 

At  three  o'clock  we  went  to  recite  eight  lines  of  the  Aeneid. 
Uncle  Sam  is  very  fine,  and  if  the  question  is  not  answered  in- 
stantly, "Sufficient,"  and  the  next  one  is  called  up.  One  learns  to 
think  quick.  He  adds  five  lines  every  day.  .  .  I  am  installed 
as  organist  in  our  choir  and  play  at  Academy  prayers,  morning 
and  night.  Last  Sunday,  we  sang  in  the  Seminary  Chapel,  where 
I  had  charge  of  the  organ. 

Prof.  Stearns  of  Bangor  Theological  Seminary,  now  in 
his  heavenly  home,  was  in  Phillips  Academy  with  Edward, 
though  not  a  classmate.  In  a  letter  from  Bangor  to  him,  he 
says,  "I  remember  you  very  well  years  ago  in  Phillips  Acad- 
emy, when  in  your  round  jacket  you  used  to  play  the  organ 
and  sing  soprano." 

I  wish  you  would  send  me  the  dates  of  your  birthday  and  of 
father's,  and  of  your  wedding  day,  as  I  never  can  remember  them. 

Sept.  20th. 

That  old  question,  "Should  ministers  ever  engage  in  politics?" 
was  adopted  for  discussion  at  the  Society  of  Inquiry.  I  mean  to 
speak  on  the  affirmative  and  to  gain  it  too,  if  I  have  the  ability.    .  . 

Of  his  class  in  the  Sunday  School  at  Abbotsville,  he 
writes : — 

My  class  consists  of  girls,  who  are  two  or  three  years  older  than 
myself.  We  read  a  chapter  and  then  I  talk  about  it.  I  find  that 
they  are  interested,  for  which  I  feel  thankful.  Sunday  is  a  very 
busy  day.  Biblical  at  nine,  morning  and  afternoon  meeting,  Sun- 
day School,  and  then  prayer-meeting. 

October  3rd. 

As  to  ministers  preaching  on  politics,  our  side  gained  it.  The 
question  on  "Christianity  and  Mythology  contrasted  as  a  field  for 
the  Poet,"  was  decided  on  my  side.  I  don't  allow  these  discussions 
to  take  up  much  time.  I  think  of  them  on  my  way  to  dinner  and 
supper,  and  generally  leave  soon  after  I  have  spoken.  .  .  Please 
send  George  Herbert's  Poems  by  father. 

Oct.  17th,  1863. 

I  was  rather  put  out  of  sorts,  the  other  morning,  by  my  chum's 
telling  me  that  one  of  my  friends  and  classmates  had  asked  him 
why  I  did  not  dress  better,  remarking  that  if  I,  who  do  so  well  in 
everything  else,  only  dressed  well,  I  should  be  a  great  deal  -more 
thought  of.  I  replied  that  I  could  not  afiford  to  dress  better.  I 
know  there  is  truth  in  what  they  say,  but  I  have  so  many  ad- 
vantages that  they  don't  have,  that  I  have  got  almost  over  the  efifect 
of  the  criticisms. 


34     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

His  mother  was  grieved  at  these  remarks,  and  wrote  that, 
if  they  made  him  unhappy,  she  authorized  him  to  purchase 
such  garments  as  he  thought  best.  Very  soon  came  a  letter 
headed : — 

CONCERNING  CLOTHES. 

I  am  afraid  I  did  not  write  in  my  letter  quite  as  I  intended.  I 
did  not  mean  to  complain  at  all,  for  I  should  be  one  of  the  most 
ungrateful  of  sons,  if  I  should  complain  of  a  little  thing  like  that, 
in  return  for  all  you  have  done,  and  are  doing  for  me.  But  hear- 
ing what  I  did,  I  wanted  sympathy,  which  I  was  sure  I  should  get 
from  you.  As  time  has  gone  on,  however,  I  have  lost  my  special 
sensitiveness  about  it.  I  think  I  may  be  able  to  make  what  clothes 
I  now  have  last  through  the  winter.  If  I  cannot,  I  can  get  what 
is  necessary  at  Lawrence.  The  coat  is  rather  worn,  but  will  do 
very  well  till  vacation.  And  those  "offending  trousers"  I  have  not 
laid  by,  nor  do  I  intend  to  until  they  give  way.  If  I  had  stopped 
to  think  how  you  would  be  troubled,  I  would  not  have  written 
what  I  did. 

The  class  had  engaged  Gough  as  one  of  the  lecturers  in 
their  course.  Ned  writes :  "At  seven,  the  hall,  which  seats 
800,  was  packed,  but  they  kept  crowding  in,  till  at  last  every 
possible  space  was  filled,  and  then  over  a  hundred  were 
obliged  to  go  away.  At  half  past  seven.  Gough,  with  great 
difficulty,  edged  himself  in.  Then  came  the  lecture.  Rich 
and  sparkling,  he  had  them  in  tears  at  one  moment  and 
convulsed  with  laughter  at  the  next." 

Edward  received  an  invitation  to  pass  a  few  days  in  Hav- 
erhill, including  Thanksgiving.  As  the  first  ministerial 
home  of  his  father  and  mother  had  been  there,  the  invita- 
tion was  particularly  acceptable.  Mrs.  Howe,  his  charming 
hostess,  belonged  to  the  Saltonstall  family,  and  lived  in  the 
spacious,  colonial  Saltonstall  home,  noted  for  its  gracious 
and  abounding  hospitality.  Of  this  delightful  Thanksgiving 
visit  he  gave  an  enthusiastic  description  in  his  letters,  which, 
after  many  years,  he  repeated  in  one  of  his  first  Thanksgiv- 
ing sermons. 

Dec.  27th,  1863. 

The  electioneering  campaign  for  the  secret  societies  of  Yale 
has  commenced.  Last  week,  I  received  a  letter  of  six  pages,  elec- 
tioneering for  Gamma  Nu.    Then  there  is  a  Delta  Kappa  man, 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


35 


pledging  all  he  can,  although  he  says  they  want  only  six  or  eight 
of  the  best  scholars.  I  am  the  only  one  who  has  refused  to  give  a 
pledge,  for  I  shall  not  decide  to  go  any  where  until  my  parents 
are  fully  convinced  that  it  is  right  to  join  a  secret  society.  Most 
of  the  best  fellows  I  know  here  have  gone  to  the  Delta  Kappa. 
They  have  but  one  annual  supper,  and  make  no  use  of  any  kind 
of  spirits.  The  majority  of  the  Faculty  belong  to  one  or  other 
of  the  secret  societies  and  are  honorary  members.  But  I  shall 
have  plenty  to  say  about  it  when  I  come  home. 

Jan.  3d,  1864. 

Since  last  Saturday,  men  have  been  here  electioneering  for  Gamma 
Nu,  and  the  Brothers,  which  is  one  of  the  two  large  open  societies. 
That  was  just  what  I  wanted — a  chance  of  hearing  the  arguments 
of  both  societies  from  their  own  men.  I  must  say  there  is  a  great 
difference  in  the  statements.  I  presume  you  would  be  perfectly 
willing  for  me  to  decide  on  Gamma  Nu.  No  one  belonging  to 
that  society  has  ever  been  expelled  or  suspended.  If  I  decide 
soon,  I  may  be  able  to  induce  some  of  our  good  fellows  to  go 
there.  .  .  Sometime  this  term,  I  have  to  write  my  president's 
address  for  the  Society  of  Inquiry.  I  have  decided  on  the  subject, 
"Law,  Human  and  Divine." 

Jan.  loth. 

If,  a  week  ago,  some  one  had  told  me  that  during  the  week  forty- 
four  members  of  the  school,  and  some  of  the  hardest  boys,  too, 
would  become  Christians,  and  that,  too,  without  the  excitement 
that  usually  attends  revivals,  I  should  have  found  it  hard  to  be- 
lieve him.  To  give  the  history  of  it  would  require  pages,  and  that 
I  have  not  time  for.  I  think  there  is  no  one  in  the  school  whose 
heart  is  not  touched,  and  they  all  need  to  be  spoken  to  or  prayed 
with.  Can  you  wonder  that  I  have  sacrificed  my  studies  to  this? 
Still  I  keep  on  with  my  classes. 

From  their  earliest  years  Ned's  father  and  mother  were  in 
the  habit  of  a  Sunday  evening  talk  with  their  children,  which 
they  tried  to  make  a  full  outing.  Ned  often  spoke  of  the  ben- 
efit he  derived  from  this  custom.  After  speaking  again  of 
the  religious  interest,  he  writes :  "Now,  dear  father  and 
mother,  for  that  Sunday  talk !  I  feel  that  my  great  sin  dur- 
ing the  past  year  has  been  a  lack  of  faith  and  also  of  making 
my  religion  practical — talking  and  praying  with  my  com- 
panions. Then  my  prayers  have  not  been  a  true  heart-ofTer- 
ing,  but  cold  and  formal .  .  .  And  now,  when  I  talk  with 
any  one  on  religion  and  it  seems  to  move  him,  the  thought 
keeps  coming  up  that  I  have  done  all  this.  Oh,  it  is  hard  to 
keep  these  bad  thoughts  out  of  my  bad  heart !   Strange  that 


36     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


I  serve  such  an  enemy  as  Diabolus  !  But  I  know  by  Christ's 
strength  he  can  be  conquered." 

On  May  20th  of  this  year  came  the  Silver  Wedding  at 
Dingle  Side,  when  Edward,  of  course,  was  present.  His 
sister,  Meta,  also  came,  and  finding  that  a  poem  for  the  oc- 
casion was  expected  from  her,  she  sat  down  at  once  and 
wrote  the  following  verses  : 

THE  SILVER  WEDDING. 
May  20,  1864. 

Ye  powers  who  send  the  sunny  days, 

O  grant  us  lovely  weather. 
That  neither  cloud  nor  shower  may  shade 

Our  meeting  here  together. 

But  whether  light,  or  whether  dark. 

The  sky  that  hangs  above  us, 
'Tis  bright  as  Summer  in  the  hearts 

And  eyes  of  those  that  love  us. 

For  since  the  rosy  morning  ray 

First  dawned  on  our  horizon, 
The  years  have  shed  a  steady  glow 

That  now  we  rest  our  eyes  on. 

A  moonlight  radiance  calm  and  still, 

A  pure  and  silvery  brightness; 
No  shade  of  past  or  present  ill 

To  dim  or  mar  its  whiteness. 

For  though  the  shades  have  come  and  gone. 

And  life  was  not  all  shining, 
Still  glimmered  through  the  darkest  cloud 

Its  inner  silver  lining. 

O  silver  day!    O  silver  years! 

Fill  up  your  golden  measure. 
Till  Time  shall  bring,  unbroken  still. 

His  fifty  years  of  pleasure. 

The  golden  years  then  still  glide  on. 

With  many  a  sweet  May  dawning. 
Until  you  wake  to  see  some  day 

A  Paradisal  morning! 

A  poem  was  also  read  from  Caroline  A.  Mason,  a  dear 
friend  of  the  family.  From  the  published  account  by  a 
guest  a  few  passages  are  given  : 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


37 


The  pleasure  of  the  guests  was  much  enhanced  by  music  from 
the  piano  and  flute,  with  vocal  performances,  all  of  a  high  order 
of  excellence.  We  must  not  forget  to  mention  the  gifts  from 
friends,  absent  as  well  as  present,  in  great  variety,  from  the  more 
weighty  silver  "weapon  of  defence,"  and  other  articles  of  the  same 
material,  equally  combining  elegance  and  utility,  to  a  scent-bag 
from  Italy,  and  an  exquisite  Cape  Jasmine,  "for  the  bride," — all 
highly  prized  as  expressions  of  interest  in  the  occasion.  One  of 
them  was  a  sealed  roll,  which,  on  being  opened,  revealed  a  rare 
set  of  antiques,  in  the  shape  of  fifty  three-cent  pieces.  Another 
was  a  pair  of  sugar-tongs,  with  a  poem  by  the  giver,  a  gentleman 
over  seventy  years  of  age,  beginning  with  the  following  playful 
stanza: 

"Accept,  dear  friends,  these  sugar-tongs, 

A  symbol  of  your  silver  wedding; 
For  in  their  union,  too,  the  prongs 

Secure  life's  sweetness  at  your  bidding." 

Not  the  least  valuable  of  the  tokens  were  photographs  of  absent 
friends,  to  receive  which  a  handsome  album  had  quite  opportunely 
been  presented.  Among  them  were  those  of  the  venerated  pa- 
triarchs, President  Nott  and  Rev.  Dr.  Jenks,  that  of  the  latter  en- 
closed in  a  letter  written  in  a  style  of  classic  elegance,  to  which  he 
subscribes  himself,  "Your  friend  and  your  father's  friend." 

The  latter  hours  of  the  evening  were  occupied  with  addresses 
from  the  Doctor  and  his  colleagues — Rev.  Mr.  Tyler,  Mr.  A.  S. 
Roe,  the  well  know  author,  and  Rev.  Prof.  Hoppin  of  New  Haven. 
While  wit  and  sentiment  found  an  appropriate  place,  both  in  the 
letters  and  addresses,  the  more  earnest  and  serious  aspects  of  the 
occasion  were  not  lost  sight  of.  Many  touching  allusions  were 
made  to  the  absent  child,  removed,  years  ago,  to  a  heavenly 
mansion, — the  fair  "Broken  Bud"  which,  even  when  crushed  and 
withering,  gave  forth  sweet  and  imperishable  odors,  that  have 
since  comforted  the  sick  heart  of  many  a  bereaved  mother.  Carrie's 
portrait  was  smiling  upon  us  in  life-like  beauty.  We  could  but 
think  of  the  possibility  that  her  spirit  hovered  near  with  his — 
the  revered  father  of  the  "new,  old  bride,"  as,  with  an  expression 
of  inefTable  benignity,  the  chiselled  features  of  the  venerable 
divine  looked  forth  from  beneath  a  laurel  crown,  and  seemed  to 
breathe  a  benediction  on  the  scene. 

Andover,  May  28th,  1864. 
We  have  just  commenced  Homer,  and  are  rushing  along  at  a 
very  rapid  rate.    I  send  proofs  of  my  class  photographs.  They 
all  look  cross,  although  I  tried  to  have  a  slight  smile. 

When  Ned  wrote  home  that  he  had  the  valedictory,  his 
birthday  sister  hearing  the  tidings  and  seeing  that  it  was 
warmly  welcomed,  ran  around  the  house,  shouting,  "Ned's 
got  the  varioloidf   When  he  handed  in  his  subject,  Dr. 


38     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Taylor  recommended  a  fresher  one,  and  gave  him  "The  Ro- 
man and  Goth  in  the  Fourth  Century." 

June  4th. 

Last  night,  one  of  the  two  Senior  orations  at  the  pubHc  ex- 
hibition of  Philo,  the  Friday  before  the  term  closes,  was  offered 
me.  There  are  three  orations,  two  Senior  and  one  Middler,  and  they 
are  the  highest  orations  the  Society  bestows.  Shall  I  accept  it?  If 
I  do,  I  shall  have  two  orations  to  write,  each  eight  minutes  long. 
Of  course,  it  is  gratifying  to  have  taken  the  highest  scholarship 
and  one  of  the  highest  literary  honors  at  the  same  time.  The 
Committee  are  very  urgent,  appealing  to  my  patriotic  feelings. 
I  will  be  governed  entirely  by  what  you  think. 

He  accepted  the  appointment,  and  selected  as  his  subject, 
"Brute  and  Moral  Force."  At  the  request  of  the  class,  Meta 
wrote  the  poem  for  their  Anniversary  exercises,  with  which 
great  satisfaction  was  expressed. 

As  the  class  meeting  of  Ned's  father  at  Dartmouth  Col- 
lege came  this  year,  it  was  arranged  that  the  family  forces 
should  be  divided,  the  father  and  eldest  daughter  going  to 
Hanover,  and  the  mother  and  youngest  to  Andover  to  hear 
Ned's  valedictory.  When  the  latter  reached  Andover  Hill, 
they  found  a  great  excitement  prevailing  from  the  call  for 
volunteers,  who  were  to  go  as  hundred  days'  men.  Con- 
cerning this,  Ned  wrote :  "Dear  Father, — They  are  raising 
a  company  for  the  war  from  the  academy.  Thirty  names  are 
down  and  thirty  more,  if  their  parents  consent.  I  ask  your 
leave  to  go,  and  I  hope  you  will  consent  for  that  short  time. 
The  Governor  says  he  will  obviate  any  difficulty  in  regard 
to  those  who  are  under  eighteen.  We  ought  to  go  next 
week,  at  the  farthest.  Please  write  immediately,  giving  your 
consent." 

Dr.  Taylor  called  on  Ned's  mother,  to  say  that  the  com- 
plement of  men  was  already  filled,  but  he  did  not  wish  to 
discourage  the  boys.  This  was  added  to  the  letter.  At  last 
the  answer  came.  His  father  admired  the  pluck  of  the  boys, 
but  thought  they  had  better  "tarry  at  Jericho  till  their 
beards  be  g^own."   So  Ned  remained  and  delivered  the  val- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


39 


edictory,  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  friends  if  not  of  his  own, 
and  afterward  passed  a  part  of  his  vacation  very  pleasantly 
in  Brunswick. 

Miss  Russell,  in  whose  house  Ned  had  a  room  in  his  last 
Andover  year,  writes  :  "I  like  to  look  on  your  son's  resi- 
dence with  us  as  one  of  those  events  in  which  I  can  recog- 
nize the  hand  of  my  heavenly  Father,  mingling  as  he  is 
wont  to  do,  unexpected  pleasures  with  the  every-day  duties 
and  cares  of  life.  We  shall  ever  cherish  grateful  recollec- 
tions of  his  gentlemanly  deportment  and  of  his  earnest 
prayers  and  faithful  Christian  labors,  especially  in  connec- 
tion with  our  little  mission  field." 

Ned  took  his  meals  at  a  club,  where  he  became  quite  an 
adept  in  carving.  When  confined  for  a  short  time  by  a  se- 
vere cold,  the  boys  brought  him  in  what  they  could.  But 
he  fully  appreciated  a  hot  breakfast  and  dinner  which  Mrs. 
Sereno  Abbott,  noted  for  her  kindness,  thoughtfully  sent  in 
to  him.  She  writes :  "I  remember  his  bright,  handsome 
face  when  you  came  to  establish  him  in  Latin  Commons, 
and  how  you  worked  day  after  day  to  make  his  bare  room 
look  homelike  and  cozy.  Uncle  Farrar  greatly  admired  and 
revered  your  father,  and  he  always  seemed  pleased  when 
your  son  came  in  to  play  the  piano,  or  brought  in  his  won- 
derful flute.  That  was  the  particular  admiration  of  my 
young  people." 

Mrs.  Charlotte  P.  Nichols,  a  sister  of  his  classmate,  Ed- 
gar L.  Kimball,  from  Bradford,  and  a  fine  pianist,  writes  : — 

When  Edward  Lawrence  was  a  member  of  Phillips  Academy, 
he  came  over  occasionally  with  my  brother,  bringing  his  flute 
for  a  little  music  at  our  house.  Even  in  those  boyhood  days,  he 
was  such  a  choice  spirit  that  it  was  a  pleasure  to  meet  him,  and  to 
play  with  him  his  well-chosen  selections,  for  while  music  was  a 
recreation,  it  was  not  carelessly  entered  upon.  Life  was  very 
earnest  to  him  even  then,  and  meant  work  and  high  ambitions. 
He  was  far  above  most  boys  in  this  respect,  and  his  manliness 
was  always  very  apparent.  During  his  life  in  foreign  lands,  it  was 
one  of  the  greatest  pleasures  to  receive  a  leaf  or  a  flower  gath- 
ered in  memory  of  some  great  master,  whom  we  had  talked  of  in 
those  early  days.  His  life,  too  soon  ended,  has  left  a  charm  for  us, 
inexpressible,  but  very  lasting. 


40     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


A  very  pleasant  testimony  came  from  Principal  Taylor. 
In  speaking  of  Edward  with  my  brother  Leonard,  he  said 
that  in  his  whole  course  in  Phillips  Academy  he  had  never 
found  in  him  a  single  thing  out  of  the  way. 

When  Edward  preached  in  Worcester  in  the  summer  of 
1891,  he  wrote  me  of  meeting  in  the  church  with  Dr.  Pea- 
body,  an  old  friend.  I  was  moved  recently  to  write  him  at 
the  City  Hospital,  telling  him  I  was  preparing  a  memorial 
of  my  son,  and  should  be  glad  to  learn  of  their  acquaintance. 
I  cannot  forbear  giving  his  reply : — 

Worcester,  June  6th,  1899. 

Dear  Mrs.  Lawrence: — 

I  remember  your  son  Edward  very  well.  I 
was  in  his  class  at  the  Academy  during  the  senior  year,  and  roomed 
near  him  in  Latin  Commons.  He  was  a  hard  worker,  a  faithful 
student  and  an  earnest  Christian;  brilliant  in  the  class-room,  active 
on  the  athletic  field,  and  the  life  of  our  social  gatherings.  I  be- 
lieve he  had  the  respect  and  love  of  every  one  of  his  classmates. 
I  remember  him  with  peculiar  regard,  as  I  recall  a  scene  in  my 
room,  where  he  had  sought  me,  and  where  alone  with  him  and  God, 
I  was  led  to  the  beginning  of  a  new  life. 


CHAPTER  V. 


LIFE  AT  YALE. 

Steadily,  steadily,  step  by  step. 

Up  the  venturous  builders  go. 
Carefully  placing  stone  on  stone; 

Thus  the  loftiest  temples  grow. 

In  Sept.,  1864,  the  young  man,  now  seventeen,  sets  forth 
for  Yale  College.   On  the  13th,  he  writes  : — 

On  reaching  New  Haven,  by  dint  of  inquiring  at  almost  every 
corner,  I  made  my  way  to  Hillhouse  Avenue,  where  Mrs.  Hoppin 
received  me  cordially,  and  soon  set  out  with  me  in  search  of  a 
room.  Meeting  an  Andover  classmate,  he  went  with  me  to  a  Club, 
where  were  Wilder  and  a  crowd  of  sixty-fourers.  Wilder  took  me 
to  a  room  on  York  Street,  which  I  finally  engaged  on  certain 
conditions.  But  my  hostess  wanted  to  know  if  I  had  been  ex- 
amined, and  receiving  a  negative,  hesitated,  because  she  had 
heard  that  many  were  being  turned  away.  However,  I  contrived 
to  satisfy  her,  and  had  my  luggage  brought  here. 

On  Wednesday,  I  went  into  the  examination  about  eight,  getting 
through  by  half  past  twelve.  At  half  past  two,  I  received  my 
white  paper,  which  signifies  that  I  have  passed  without  conditions. 
The  next  day  the  Freshmen  met  in  the  chapel  and  were  separated 
into  four  divisions.  I  am  in  the  second,  and  we  have  for  our  divi- 
sion ofificer.  Tutor  Wright,  who  was  one  of  the  founders  of  Gamma 
Nu,  and  is  very  popular. 

It  is  a  new  experience,  in  going  past  a  Sophomore's  room,  to 
hear  some  one  shout,  "Ah,  Freshy!"  .  .  Prof.  Hadley,  to  whom 
we  recite  in  Greek,  is  quite  different  from  L'^ncle  Sam,  but  is  very 
gentlemanly  and  quiet  and  fair  and  interesting.  I  like  him  very 
much.  Last  night,  I  joined  Gamma  Nu,  having  become  fully  sat- 
isfied that  that  was  the  place  for  me. 

Sept.  2ist. 

At  last  the  grand  rush  in  Library  Street.  Four  abreast,  with 
locked  arms,  a  hundred  and  twenty  of  us  rushed  on  till  we  were 
suddenly  checked  by  a  living  wall  of  Sophs.  For  a  while  both 
parties  were  dead  locked,  but  finally  the  Sophs,  overwhelmed  by 
our  superior  strength,  veered  to  one  side,  and  we  passed  on  in  the 
very  middle  of  the  street,  victorious.  Nine  times  was  the  scene 
repeated.  Seven  times  we  rushed  them,  twice  they  forced  their 
way  through.    But  it  was  a  fearful  scene;  shoutings  and  cheerings 


42     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


rent  the  air.  Twice  I  expected  my  wrist  to  give  some  sign  of 
breakage,  but  it  was  only  sprained.  All  day  yesterday  I  had  a 
little  difficulty  in  breathing,  from  the  soreness  of  my  ribs.  But 
it  is  all  right  now.  Only  one  was  badly  hurt,  being  thrown  down, 
and  one  side  of  his  face  and  body  trampled  on,  but  he  is  around 
again. 

Yale,  Oct.  1865. 

Yesterday,  I  took  a  long  walk  with  McGregor  and  Cramer  to 
Pine  Rock,  a  short  distance  northeast  of  West  Rock.  The  rock 
is  very  steep,  and  with  its  sides  covered  with  small  stones,  which 
slip  as  soon  as  you  touch  them.  Arrived  on  the  top,  however,  the 
view  compensates  for  the  toil.  A  grand  valley  lies  before  you,  on 
one  side  there  being  nothing  but  forests  until  the  mountains  rise 
in  the  distance.  There  is  not  a  sign  of  civilization,  and  near  by 
West  Rock  rises  grim  and  solitary  in  its  grandeur,  its  bare,  steep 
sides  presenting  a  striking  contrast  to  the  undulating  ground-work 
of  green  which  fills  up  that  part  of  the  valley.  But  looking  the 
other  side,  everything  is  changed.  On  the  edge  of  the  Sound 
lies  the  beautiful  city  of  New  Haven,  seeming  almost  to  float  up- 
on the  water,  while  over  the  rocks  and  hills  there  hovers  a  peculiar 
tinge  of  blue,  which  gives  an  indescribable  softness  to  what  might 
otherwise  be  a  harsh  setting  for  the  gem  of  a  city  which  they  em- 
brace. The  sun  had  just  set,  and  on  looking  back,  across  the  dark 
forest  were  streaming  rays  of  light,  while  in  the  centre  of  this 
light,  the  sky  semed  like  a  fiery  ocean.  But  our  watches  warned 
us  that  we  must  end  this  pleasure,  so  we  plunged  down  into  the 
woods  and  cut  across  the  country,  reaching  town  about  seven 
o'clock. 

Oct.  2nd. 

Last  night,  in  Gamma  Nu,  we  discussed  the  question: — "Re- 
solved, that  if  the  states  of  the  south  offer  to  return  to  their  al- 
legiance, they  should  be  received  to  their  rights  as  states,  those 
of  their  slaves  who  are  free  to  remain  so,  and  those  who  are  in 
bondage  to  remain  so."  Hume  and  Sears  were  leaders  on  the 
afifirmative.  Tweedy  and  I  on  the  negative.  Our  side  won,  both 
from  the  chair  and  the  house.  .  .  Robert  Hume,  who  is  in  my 
division,  I  like  very  much.    He  is  a  fine  speaker  and  scholar. 

Oct.  i6th. 

A  day  or  two  ago,  the  superintendent  of  the  African  Mission 
School  urged  me  to  take  a  class.  Dr.  Cleveland  also  asked  me  to 
take  one  in  the  Mission  School  connected  with  his  church.  I  de- 
cided for  the  African  Sunday  School.  .  .  Last  night,  we  had  a 
meeting  of  our  class  to  form  a  Temperance  Society.  We  have  al- 
ready forty-two  names  to  a  pledge  to  drink  no  intoxicating 
liquors  during  the  four  years'  course,  and  hope  to  have  sixty,  at 
least. 

Oct.  26th. 

The  German  opera  troupe  from  New  York  has  been  here  for 
two  nights,  playing  Mar;/;a  and  Faust.  The  music  was  very  fine, 
and  quite  a  number  of  my  friends  were  going.    And  although  the 


OF  EDWARD  A. 


LAWRENCE,  JR. 


43 


tickets  were  two  dollars,  yet  as  you  don't  think  the  opera  under 
certain  conditions,  is  wrong,  I — do  you  think  I  went?  By  no 
means,  for  there  is  a  time  for  everything.  And  the  term  is  cer- 
tainly not  the  time  for  going  to  the  opera. 

This  recalls  an  incident  that  occurred  at  East  Windsor 
Hill,  in  one  of  his  Phillips  Academy  vacations.  On  a  walk 
with  his  mother  from  Mr.  E.  P.  Roe's,  the  author  of  "Look 
Ahead,"  at  whose  house  they  had  taken  tea,  he  told  her  with 
some  hesitation,  as  if  fearing  she  might  laugh  at  his  scru- 
ples, that  he  had  been  thinking  that  his  flute-playing  might 
be  too  great  an  indulgence,  and  that  he  ought,  therefore,  to 
give  it  up.  When  his  mother  assured  him  that  she  ftilly  ap- 
preciated his  scruples  and  that  in  her  young  days  she  had 
had  similar  ones  with  regard  to  certain  things,  and  had  be- 
come a  temporary  ascetic,  the  dear  boy  was  so  happy  in 
being  understood,  that  right  there  in  the  street,  he  put  his 
arms  around  her  neck  and  kissed  her.  And  then,  in  that 
lonely  stroll  through  the  woods,  they  went  into  the  roots  of 
matters,  and  had  a  long  talk  as  to  the  principles  that  should 
govern  them.  As  he  grew  older  he  became  more  and  more 
firm  in  the  belief  that  asceticism  was  no  part  of  religion,  and 
was  broad  and,  as  some  might  think,  too  liberal  as  to  his 
views  of  certain  amusements,  if  indulged  in  at  suitable  times 
and  where  one  has  no  conscientious  scruples. 

Dec.  14th. 

I  received,  yesterday,  an  invitation  from  Mrs.  Collins,  9  Hill- 
house  Avenue,  to  be  present  at  the  Bouquet  to-night  at  half-past 
seven.  I  shall  go,  though  I  don't  know  who  she  is,  or  what  it  is, 
or  why  I  am  invited. 

Early  in  the  year  1855  Edward  had  trouble  with  his  eyes, 
which  led  him  to  write :  "Unless  my  eyes  are  greatly 
strengthened  within  six  months,  I  cannot  accomplish  what 
you,  or  my  Society,  or  I  desire.  Of  course  it  will  be  a  great 
disappointment  not  to  be  able  to  keep  up  my  stand." 

This  trouble  continued,  to  some  extent,  during  his  college 
course,  and  necessarily  affected  his  standing.  And  although 
using  ponies  was  quite  the  fashion,  he  could  not  for  a  mo- 


44     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


ment  think  of  this.  During  a  visit  of  his  mother's  at  Mrs. 
Wheeler's  an  old  friend  in  Hillhouse  Avenue,  he  was  there 
often.  As  the  result,  Mrs.  Wheeler  kindly  proposed  that  he 
should  have  a  seat  at  her  table  and  take  his  meals  there.  He 
accepted  her  invitation,  and  continued  to  be  thus  a  semi- 
member  of  her  family  through  the  remainder  of  his  college 
life. 

While  in  New  York  in  one  of  his  vacations,  Edward  called 
on  Dr.  George  B.  Cheever,  with  a  letter  from  his  mother.  It 
was  very  satisfactory  to  her  and  to  his  father,  that  in  his  re- 
sponse Dr.  Cheever  adds :  "I  was  very  much  pleased  with 
your  son.  He  seems  to  me  a  noble  fellow,  sensible  and  high 
minded,  the  promise  of  a  great  treasure  to  you  and  the 
.world." 

Edward  desired  to  take  lessons  of  Prof.  Mark  Bailey  in 
elocution,  but  always  considerate  as  to  his  expenses,  he  pro- 
posed using  his  small  private  allowance  towards  the  pay- 
ment. 

One  day  there  came  a  letter  from  Tutor  Wright,  announc- 
ing that  Edward  had  reached  the  first  course  of  discipline. 
Great  indeed  was  the  consternation  of  his  father  and  moth- 
er !  It  was  as  if  the  stars  had  fallen  from  heaven,  and  led  to 
a  speedy  inquiry  as  to  such  unexpected  delinquencies.  Be- 
fore this  reply  could  have  reached  the  tutor  there  came  a 
letter  from  Edward  : — 

"Owing  to  a  severe  headache  and  toothache  I  stayed  away 
from  prayers  several  times,  which,  with  some  other  special 
interruptions,  may  give  me  enough  marks  to  bring  you  a 
letter.  But  it  will  only  mean  that  I  have  sixteen  marks 
against  my  name,  and  since  I  could  get  thirty-two  and  have 
them  erased  at  the  end  of  the  term,  you  need  not  be 
alarmed." 

Soon  came  the  tutor's  reassuring  reply,  closing  as  fol- 
lows :  "Edward's  success  in  the  studies  of  the  course  is  very 
satisfactory,  and  his  faithfulness  unimpeachable. 

"Very  truly  yours,    "Arthur  W.  Wright." 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  45 

In  this  connection  are  given  extracts  from  a  letter  by  this 
same  tutor,  now  Prof.  Wright,  dated  New  Haven,  Aug. 
2 1  St,  1894: — 

I  feel  the  loss  of  your  son  as  that  of  a  personal  friend,  for  there 
have  been  few  of  those  whom  I  have  taught  here,  of  whom  I  have  so 
pleasant  a  memory.  His  frank  and  manly  character  in  college 
made  our  relations  much  less  formal  than  is  customary  between 
student  and  teacher.  He  always  appeared  to  me  a  man  of  superior 
quality,  intellectual  and  moral,  and  as  one  from  whom  we  should 
hear  much  as  the  years  went  on.  Even  as  a  student,  he  showed 
a  maturity  of  character,  knowledge  and  judgment  beyond  his 
years,  with  an  unusual  power  of  thinking  and  expressing  his 
thoughts.  These,  with  his  open-mindedness,  directness,  and  moral 
earnestness,  were  elements  of  power  which  made  themselves 
felt  in  his  life.  It  a  great  loss  that,  with  capabilities  so  admirable 
and  so  nobly  developed,  his  life  should  have  been  so  brief. 

Speaking  of  his  boys  in  Bethany  Mission,  Edward  writes  : 
"They  want  to  hear  nothing  but  stories,  and  consider  any  in- 
struction as  a  kind  of  penance  which  they  only  endure  for 
the  sake  of  the  story  which  follows.  One  Sunday,  while  I 
was  talking  with  them,  one  of  the  boys  burst  out  with  the 
request  that,  after  Sunday  School,  I  would  go  out  chestnut- 
ting  with  them.  They  all  joined  in  the  request  and  became 
quite  importunate.  I  took  occasion  to  apply  the  fourth 
commandment,  which  I  had  just  been  repeating,  when  one 
of  them  responded,  'Well,  we  won't  go  chestnutting,  but 
only  to  walk  and  will  pick  up  whatever  chestnuts  we  find.' 
Sophistry,  it  seems,  creeps  into  the  heads  of  the  ignorant  as 
well  as  the  learned." 

About  this  time  Edward  got  the  idea  of  writing  short- 
band,  and  wishing  his  letters  to  be  intelligible  to  his  mother, 
he  sent  her  a  copy  of  Graham's  text  book  to  enable  her  to 
interpret  them.  She  studied  it  up  and  surprised  him  by  writ- 
ing the  first  letter.  He  sent  her  several  letters  thus  written, 
and  then  dropped  the  short-hand,  much  to  her  relief. 

New  Haven,  Sept.  i6th,  1865. 
Well,  dear  mother,  I   am  in  the  harness   again,  and  ready  for 
work.  The  night  of  my  arrival,   I  drew  out  a  mattress  and  slept 
■on  the  f^oor.    The  next  day  I  put  down  my  carpet  and  got  most 


46 


REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


of  niy  furniture,  and  now  I  am  fairly  settled  down,  with  my  pic- 
tures up,  my  round  table  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  my 
ijureau  and  bookcase  on  one  side.  My  drawers  are  all  nicely  ar- 
ranged, and  my  clothes  hang  from  their  appropriate  nails. 

We  are  now  enjoying  the  pleasure  of  being  called  Sopho- 
mores. It  is  one  of  the  college  customs  that  no  Freshman  shall 
be  allowed  to  sit  on  the  college  fence.  The  other  day,  a  Freshman, 
not  acquainted  with  this  rule,  was  taking  his  ease  on  the  fence 
when  one  of  our  class  stepped  up  to  him-  and  announced  that 
Freshmen  were  not  allowed  to  sit  there,  and,  of  course,  he  in- 
stantly retreated.  The  Sophomores  also  stand  by  the  posts,  and 
refusing  to  let  the  Freshmen  pass  through,  make  them  jump  over 
the  fence.  None  of  these  things  do  I  ever  intend  to  do,  for  al- 
though college  custom  sanctions  it,  it  certainly  is  not  gentlemanly. 
A  good  many  go  round  and  smoke  the  Freshmen  out.  Night  be- 
fore last,  a  number  of  Sophomores  went  into  a  Freshman's  room 
and  commenced  the  process,  when  he  drew  a  revolver  and  threat- 
ened to  shoot  the  first  one  who  attempted  this.  They  left  with 
quite  a  feeling  of  respect  for  his  pluck. 

Last  night,  I  delivered  my  oration  at  Gamma  Nu  Hall,  before 
an  audience  of  between  sixty  and  seventy-five,  composed  of  the 
members  of  the  "incoming  class," — the  title  by  which  Freshmen 
are  always  addressed  when  they  are  being  electioneered — and  of 
Sophomores,  Juniors  and  Seniors.    It  went  off  very  well,  I  believe. 

New  Haven,  May  6th,  1866. 

We  have  Prof.  Northrup  this  term,  in  Rhetoric.  I  like  him  ex- 
ceedingly. He  makes  the  boys  take  their  hands  out  of  their 
pockets  when  they  get  i:p  to  recite.  Yesterday  he  made  a  hit  at 
the  general  style  of  conversation  among  the  students,  saying  that 
a  very  important  means  of  benefiting  ourselves  is  absolutely  thrown 
away  by  the  frivolous  character  of  our  talk. 

I  have  just  come  from  a  very  interesting  service.  Twenty- 
three  members  of  college  joined  the  church,  to-day,  thirteen  from 
the  Senior  class.  As  all  these  young  men  stood  together,  I  could 
not  help  asking  myself,  "Will  they  all  hold  out?  Will  they  con- 
tinue the  fight  till  the  victory  is  won?"  Then  when  we  left  the 
sacred  scene,  and  came  out  again  into  the  cold,  hard  world,  I 
asked  myself,  "Shall  we,  who  have  just  been  partaking  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,  all  meet  together  in  heaven?"  And  yet,  can  any 
fall  from  grace  who  have  once  had  it? 

I  enjoy  my  drawers  much  since  you  put  them  in  order,  and  in- 
tend to  keep  them  so. — I  have  seven  fiower-pots  on  my  window, — 
three  geraniums,  a  fuchsia,  verbena,  heliotrope  and  a  pan  with 
German  ivy  and  two  other  plants  in  it.  The  verbena  is  in  bloom, 
and  its  gay  red  tuft  nods  its  head  to  me  as  I  enter  the  room, 
causing  a  draught.  The  heliotrope  is  beginning  to  blossom,  and 
will  soon  fill  the  room  with  its  fragrance. 

We  are  going  to  have  a  picnic  in  Bethany  for  the  children,  and 
I  am  on  the  Committee,  who  are  expected  to  see  that  swings  are 
put  up  and  games  provided,  the  duties  being  more  honorous  than 
onerous. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


47 


June  14th,  1866. 

On  the  whole,  I  have  decided  not  to  go  to  Worcester  to  see  the 
boat  races.  My  expenses  have  been  pretty  large,  and  this  is  one 
way  to  retrench.    I  shall  be  sorry  to  give  it  up,  but  am  decided. 

June  26th. 

Meta  will  tell  you  that  I  took  the  third  prize  in  composition. 
Prof.  Northrup  told  me  this  in  advance,  saying  that  my  piece 
was  clear,  correct  and  forcible,  and  was  a  greater  improvement 
on  the  other  than  was  denoted  by  the  mere  fact  of  its  taking  a 
prize,  adding  that  there  was  no  fear  for  me. 

Edward's  room,  the  next  term,  was  in  the  chapel,  which, 
he  says,  reminds  him  of  home.  In  getting  his  furniture  in 
advance,  he  had  written,  "I  have  decided  not  to  buy  a  carpet, 
but  to  have  one  of  your  old  ones  patched  up,  while  you  have 
the  new  one."  His  account  of  his  room  is  given  in  full  as  il- 
lustrating one  of  his  characteristics.  "In  front  of  me,"  he 
writes,  "is  one  window  looking  upon  North  College,  and  at 
the  side,  on  College  Green;  my  ivy  hangs  at  this  window, 
and  on  the  same  side  in  the  corner  is  my  stove.  My  Gam- 
ma Nu  Poster  is  one  side  of  the  stove  and  my  oil  paint- 
ing on  the  other.  In  the  right  hand  corner  on  a  little  brack- 
et is  Hebe.  There  is  another  window  looking  through  the 
city  green.  On  one  side  hangs  Cymbeline  and  on  the  other 
a  little  cross.  Between  the  two  doors  stand  my  bureau, 
bookcase,  and  at  the  left  my  lounge,  above  which  is  a  shelf 
with  a  clock  and  other  articles  on  it.  Above  this  is  the  en- 
graving from  'Tempest,'  and  on  one  side  'Night  and  Morn- 
ing.' I  am  writing  at  my  round  table  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  over  which  is  my  hanging  lamp.  The  table  cloth  does 
excellently.  The  paint  is  white.  The  paper  has  just  been 
put  on  and  is  very  pretty — diamond-shaped  figures.  I  like 
the  looks  of  my  room  very  much.  I  need  one  curtain  three 
feet,  three  inches  in  breadth,  and  three  feet,  six  inches  in 
height.    Please  fix  a  strong  string  on  the  top  of  it  to  run 

Yale,  Sept.  30th,  1866. 

Dear  Father: — 

Alother  told  me  that  she  was  reading  Ecce  Homo 
with  you,  and  advised  me  to  read  it.    I  have  it  on  my  table  now, 


48      REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


and  have  been  looking  at  one  or  two  passages,  which  I  will  quote: 
Page  218: — "The  New  Testament  is  not  the  Christian  law;  the  pre- 
cepts of  the  apostles,  the  special  commands  of  Christ,  are  not  the 
Christian  law.  To  make  them  such  is  to  throw  the  Church  back 
into  that  legal  system  from  which  Christ  would  have  set  it  free. 
The  Christian  law  is  the  spirit  of  Christ,  that  Enthusiasm  of  Hu- 
manity, etc."  Page  250: — "Christianity  is  natural  fellow-feeling 
or  humanity  raised  to  the  point  of  enthusiasm."  Page  274: — 
"Christ.  .  • .  pronounced  the  Enthusiasm  of  Humanity  to  be 
everything,  and  the  absence  of  it  to  be  the  absence  of  every- 
thing." Page  346: — "The  sight  of  very  notable  degrees  of  Chris- 
tian Humanity  m  action  will  do  more  to  kindle  the  enthusiasm,  in 
most  cases,  than  reading  the  most  impressive  scenes  of  the  life  of 
Christ."  Page  342: — "It  is  a  common  mistake  of  Christians  to 
represent  that  faith  is  alone  valuable,  and  as,  by  itself,  containing 
all  that  man  can  want  or  can  desire;"  and  countless  other  quota- 
tions, which,  of  course,  you  have  noticed.  I  have  only  glanced 
over  the  book,  but  some  of  these  passages  seem  hardly  correct, 
although  his  reasoning  appears  plausible.  I  don't  know  whether 
the  explanation  may  be  found  in  the  difference  of  terms: — that 
where  we  say,  Devotion,  Faith,  Principles,  he  says  "Enthusiasm  of 
Humanity,"  meaning  the  same  things.  Please  write  me  your 
thoughts  about  it. 

Edward  was  greatly  interested  in  the  Bethany  Mission 
School,  of  which  his  classmate,  John  Chapin,  was  superin- 
tendent. In  consequence  of  a  great  pressure  he  felt  that  he 
must  resign  and  a  theologue  was  elected.  Of  him  Edward 
writes :  "He  is  very  energetic,  but  in  that  position  is  not  a 
success.  So  I  told  John  Chapin  that  I  would  give  up  my 
reading  and  everything  except  my  studies,  and  devote  my 
time  to  aiding  about  Bethany,  if  he  would  keep  his  position. 
It  will  be  a  sacrifice,  but  I  think  I  ought  to  do  it." 

The  conduct  of  some  of  our  Sophomores  makes  me  absolutely 
indignant.  The  valedictorian  of  the  last  Phillips  Academy  class  at 
Andover,  and  a  fine  fellow  every  way,  as  he  was  going  to  bed,  was 
visited  by  a  large  party  of  boys  who  came  to  smoke  him  out. 
After  filling  the  rooms  so  that  you  might  almost  cut  the  smoke 
with  a  knife,  one  of  them,  spying  a  Bible,  took  it,  calling  out, 
"Come,  Freshy,  be  a  good  boy  and  scan  the  Bible  for  us,"  going 
on  in  that  way,  till  at  last  he  said,  that,  whatever  they  did  with 
him,  he  wished  they  would  not  jest  with  sacred  things.  The  miser- 
able scamps  exclaimed,  "Oh,  he's  a  good  little  boy,  a  nice  religious 
boy,  and  does  he  read  his  Bible  and  say  his  prayers  twice  a  day?" 
They  go  into  a  room,  and,  if  the  Freshman  is  out,  they  ransack 
his  trunks,  and  carry  of¥  anything  they  fancy. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


49 


From  a  careful  examination  of  the  last  New  York  papers,  I  think 
that,  as  soon  as  Congress  has  voted  on  the  Supplementary  Re- 
construction Bill,  it  will  adjourn,  probably  till  October.  That 
will  allow  the  impeachment  to  lie,  the  Southern  States  to  come  in 
if  they  choose,  and  also  give  Congress  time  to  see  if  the  President 
means  to  enforce  the  Reconstruction  Bill. 

Washington,  April  i8th,  1866. 
Oh,  elieu,  ah,  proh,  val,  vah,  (which  in  poetry  do  not  elide  their 
vowels,)  dc  qua,  bene,  intelligimus,  ut  rccte  vocata  sit  iirbs  magni- 
ficentium,  ciistaiitiiiin,  O  Capitolium  dome  cujus  rises  sublitnis 
in  ether, — verba  non  possunt  to  express  meain  admirationem  of 
your  grandeur,  igitiir  I  shall  not  try.  At  the  first  glimpse  of  the 
Capitol  I  was  overwhelmed.  .  .  I  have  been  through  it,  and 
also  the  Patent  Office,  Treasury  Building,  Smithsonian  Institute, 
White  House,  National  Observatory — visited  Washington's  Monu- 
ment, Georgetown  College,  Georgetown  Heights,  Fort  Whipple, 
Freedman's  Village,  Arlington  and  the  National  Cemetery,  the 
Soldiers'  Home,  Alexandria,  Mt.  Vernon,  Navy  Yard, — been 
through  the  Monitor,  the  Botanical  Gardens,  besides  hearing  the 
most  distinguished  Congressmen,  and  making  all  the  calls  you 
desired.  Thursday  evening,  I  heard  the  President  address  the 
soldiers  and  sailors,  and  on  Friday,  the  colored  people,  who  were 
celebrating  the  anniversary  of  their  freedom. 

Baltimore,  April  27th,  1866. 

Dear  Mother. 

This  is  to  let  you  know  that  I  shall  leave  here  in 
the  boat  for  Philadelphia,  and  you  may  expect  me  at  Poplar 
Street  about  eight.  They  want  me  to  stay  till  Monday,  but  I  have 
seen  about  all,  and  I  want  to  be  with  you.  I  have  just  come 
back  from  a  horseback  ride  to  the  Park.  I  enjoy  riding  so  much. 
I  like  the  Perrys  better  and  better  the  more  I  see  of  them.  Isn't 
Baltimore  a  nice  city,  and  are  not  the  people  very  social?  Soon 
you  will  receive  a  loving  epistle,  so  adieu  from 

Your  affectionate  son, 

Ned. 

In  reference  to  a  proposed  debate  on  the  mingling  of 
races,  Edward  writes  : — 

The  following  is  my  plan:  First.  The  effect  which  such  a 
mingling  has  had  as  shown  by  history  and  science. — The  foreign 
class  two  divisions:  First,  the  Protestant  class— Germans,  English, 
Welsh,  Scotch,  Swiss  and  Norsemen.  Second,  Irish.  French  and 
Italians.  The  effect  of  these  diverse  elements  on  our  liberty-loving 
character  will,  undoubtedly,  be  good.  On  our  intellectual,  prob- 
ably ultimately  good,  though  temporarily  doubtful.  On  our  moral 
and  religious  character,  much  is  to  be  feared,  especially  from  the 
Irish.  Then  sum  up,  and  close,  introducing  the  negro  as  an  un- 
settled problem.  Does  that  suit  you?  Many  sacrifice  their  studies 
to  these  debates.  But  I  do  not  wish  to  do  this  nor  do  you  to  have 
me. 


50     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Yale,  Nov.  4tli,  1866. 
Bethany  is  coming  on  finely.  The  Bateman  troupe, — that  is 
Parepa,  Brignoli,  etc.,  is  to  give  two  concerts  here,  and  Bethany 
is  to  receive  thirty-three  and  one-half  per  cent  of  all  over  $2,000, 
and  fifty  per  cent,  of  all  over  $3,000.  With  that  we  shall  build  the 
addition  to  our  chapel.  .  .  I  will  endeavor  to  make  good  use 
of  the  Index  Rcrum  you  sent  me.  I  enjoy  In  Mcinoriam  exceed- 
ingly. And  I  am  reading  Rcligio  Medici.  I  should  like  to  read 
that  with  you,  and  also  begin  In  Memoriam  again  and  read  two 
numbers  a  day,  with  an  aphorism  from  Coleridge.  In  George 
Herbert,  let  us  begin  next  Sunday,  and  read  four  pages  every 
Sunday,  commencing  with  The  Church  Porch.  I  want  to  do  all 
this  reading  very  slowly,  so  as  to  reflect.  I  shall  enjoy  it  exceed- 
ingly. 

This  habit  of  reading  witli  his  mother  when  they  were 
separated  was  contintied  to  a  greater  or  less  extent  through 
his  life. 

Yale,  Nov.  i8th,  1866. 
We  have  chosen  our  question  for  prize  debate: — "Did  Daniel 
Webster's  speech  on  March  7th,  1850,  detract  from  his  character 
as  a  statesman  and  a  patriot?"  I  mean  to  take  the  afTirmative, 
unless  I  find  reason  to  change  my  views.  I  think  in  father's  pub- 
lished sermon  about  Webster,  he  took  the  same  ground. 

Nov.  26th. 

I  find  that  all,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  are  going  to  take 
the  negative  of  our  question  as  to  Webster.  This  nerves  me  to  re- 
newed energy,  for  I  fully  believe  the  affirmative,  and  want  to  stand 
my  ground. 

Edward  felt  himself  at  home  in  disctissions,  and  notwith- 
standing his  early  purpose  to  be  a  minister,  had  gradually 
come  to  feel  inclined  towards  the  law  as  the  profession  for 
which  he  was  best  fitted.  It  was  early  in  September,  1866, 
that  he  wrote  his  mother  of  his  going  to  Prof.  Northrup's 
room  for  the  purpose  of  a  free  talk  with  him.  The  Professor 
had  himself  been  a  lawyer,  and  while  in  practice  had  consid- 
ered the  matter  very  thoroughly.  He  fully  admitted  that  a 
devoted  Christian  lawyer  might  do  much  good  religiously, 
citing  the  case  of  the  well-known  Mr.  Durant  of  Boston. 
After  talking  it  all  over,  Edward  writes :  "The  Professor 
thought  the  restilts  would  be  better  for  me,  both  in  this  life 
and  in  the  life  to  come,  if  I  should  devote  myself  to  the  ser- 
vice of  God  directly  rather  than  indirectly.    Then  he  gave 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


his  advice  unhesitatingly,  that  if  I  felt  myself  fitted,  I  should 
go  into  the  ministry.  I  think  I  feel  very  near  a  decision  to 
that  effect  now.  It  seems  as  if  the  hand  of  God  was  pointing 
that  way." 

This  conversation  evidently  proved  the  turning  point  with 
Edward,  and  the  next  month  he  writes  : 

Oct.  7th,  1866. 

To-day,  at  the  Communion  table,  I  consecrated  my  life,  with 
God's  help,  to  the  ministry.  I  hope  God  will  give  me  grace,  so  that 
my  work  may  redound  to  his  glory.  I  look  for  my  reward,  not  in 
this  life,  but  in  the  life  to  come. 

Nov.  24th,  1866. 

I  cannot  explain  why,  my  dear  mother,  but  often  I  hardly  wish 
to  live  long  in  the  world.  The  objects  of  human  desire  seem  so  ut- 
terly worthless  when  attained,  that  I  feel  sometimes  the  impossi- 
bility of  obtaining  happiness  here.  Even  human  friendship  is 
feeble  and  full  of  breaks.  At  such  times  I  most  heartily  rejoice 
in  my  profession,  as  seeking  its  reward,  not  in  the  good  will  of 
men,  who  cannot  see  motives  and  almost  always  misjudge  actions. 
And  it  is  a  sad  fact  that  people  pay  doctors  of  medicine  much  bet- 
ter for  trying  to  call  them  back  to  this  world  than  they  do  min- 
isters of  the  Gospel  for  trying  to  guide  them  to  the  other  world. 
But  then  the  latter  have  their  reward  on  the  other  side.  And 
when  I  see  how  much  vice  and  suffering  there  is  everywhere,  I 
want  to  live  long  and  bring  all  I  can,  through  God's  help,  to  the 
foot  of  the  cross.  I  cannot  pretend  to  have  attained  he  state  of 
the  stoic  or  of  the  old  hermits,  who  were  uterly  disgusted  with  the 
world.  My  desires  to  see  this  world  have  hardly  been  satisfied 
enough  as  yet  for  me  to  feel  that.  Only  I  can  understand  how  the 
truest  artists  refuse  to  sacrifice  their  sense  of  art  to  the  popular 
desires,  and,  though  not  at  all  appreciated,  find  their  reward  in 
themselves. 

Dec.  1st. 

I  passed  a  delightful  Thanksgiving.  Frank  Cramer  and  I  took 
breakfast  in  our  room,  at  about  half-past  nine.  We  had  hot  choco- 
late, mutton  chops,  fried  oysters,  omelette  and  toast,  cooking  every 
thing  ourselves. 

Feb.  2d,  1867. 

In  handing  me  back  my  piece  about  Webster,  yesterday.  Prof. 
Northrup  expressed  himself  as  much  pleased  with  it.  His  chief 
criticism  was,  that  while  there  was  a  great  number  of  power- 
ful arguments,  they  were  not  arranged  in  the  most  effective  manner. 

Edward  often  spoke  in  the  warmest  terms  of  Prof.  North- 
rup, who  all  through  his  college  course  had  been,  not  only 
an  efficient  teacher,  but  a  faithful  friend  and  counsellor.  Dur- 


52         REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


ing  his  last  year  he  had  a  talk  with  him  which  he  felt  would 
be  of  great  service  to  him  through  his  life.  The  Professor 
spoke  of  a  latent  bashfulness  which  he  had  observed,  and 
made  it  clear  to  him  that  by  rooming  alone  he  had  become 
a  sort  of  hermit,  and  that  this  habit  would  interfere  with  his 
success  as  a  pastor.  Those  who  knew  Edward  in  his  min- 
isterial life  and  observed  how  peculiarly  accessible  he  was  to 
all  classes  and  ages  and  conditions,  could  hardly  have  be- 
lieved that  he  was  once  shy  and  reserved. 

It  is  a  pleasure  to  give  the  testimony  of  Prof.  Northrup, 
now  President  of  the  University  of  Minnesota : — 

The  Rev.  Dr.  Edward  A.  Lawrence  was  a  man  of  singular  clear- 
ness of  moral  vision,  of  unvarying  candor,  and  of  great  courage, 
joined  to  great  modesty.  I  knew  him  as  a  student  in  Yale,  where 
he  was  an  excellent  scholar,  with  much  Hterary  ability,  of  marked 
humihty  of  spirit,  great  purity  of  character,  and  a  thoroughly 
manly  fellow.  I  followed  his  career  in  later  years  with  much  in- 
terest, and  was  delighted  to  find  him  always  ready  to  champion 
the  cause  of  right  in  either  church  or  state.  And  I  had  come  to 
regard  him  as  one  of  the  leaders  in  the  denomination.  His  early 
death  was  mourned  by  me  as  a  personal  loss  and  as  a  much  great- 
er loss  to  the  kingdom  of  Christ  in  this  world,  in  which  he  had 
rendered  manly  and  effective  service. 

April  29th,  1867. 

Ristori  acted  here  last  week  in  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots.  Consid- 
ering it  a  thing  of  a  life  time,  to  hear  the  greatest  tragedienne  of 
this,  or  perhaps  any  age,  I  went.  What  I  saw  and  felt  in  those 
few  hours  will  never  pass  fro  m  my  mind.  Prof.  Porter  was  there 
with  all  his  family,  and  a  number  of  our  tutors.  Such  self-posses- 
sion, such  grace,  and  more  than  all  such  a  complete  assumption 
of  the  character  she  was  acting,  I  never  saw  or  dreamed  of. 

June  19th. 

Besides  Bethany,  I  have  taught  for  the  last  few  Sundays  in  the 
Methodist  School  for  Willie  Rice,  while  he  is  preaching  at  Long 
Meadow.    The  class  is  one  of  middle-aged  ladies. 

July  1st,  1867. 

Dear  Father: — 

Presentation  week  is  just  finished.  Our  spoon 
exhibition  was  a  great  success,  surpassing  everything  for  a  num- 
ber of  years.  The  hall  was  packed  with  such  an  audience  as  is 
rarely  seen.  I  came  on  the  stage  five  times,  and  was  never  more 
at  home.  The  faces  were  all  smiling  and  sympathetic  and  it  seemed 
like  being  in  a  large  parlor  where  we  all  knew  one  another.  We 
had  the  college  fence  on  the  stage,  and  a  scene  representing  the 
college  buildings.  .  .  Only  one  year  more,  and  I  must  say 
good-bye  to  Yale  and  my  classmates. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAlVRENCli,  J  It 


53 


Edward  had  a  great  desire  in  his  summer  vacation  to 
make  a  trip  to  the  West,  and  wrote  his  parents  of  his  plan, 
in  case  they  approved.  He  expected  to  secure  the  monitor- 
ship  of  the  choir,  the  next  term,  which  would  help  meet  the 
expenses.   In  response  to  their  answer,  he  wrote : — 

Yale,  July  8th,  1867. 

Dear  Mother:— 

I  have  just  received  your  letter  and  reply  instanter. 
You  are  the  best  and  kindest  of  fathers  and  mothers,  and  I  can 
never  repay  you. 

Edward  started  on  his  journey  about  the  middle  of  July, 
and,  besides  keeping  a  full  journal,  sent  frequent  letters 
home.   Only  a  few  extracts  can  be  given  : — 

Stillwater,  Minn.,  Aug.  nth,  1867. 
I  will  not  begin  to  speak  of  the  scenery  I  have  beheld  this  last 
week,  or  I  could  not  stop.  The  upper  Mississippi,  Minnehaha, 
St.  Anthony's  Falls,  and  the  whole  country,  make  this  the  best  part 
of  my  trip.  I  shall  go,  to-morrow,  a  few  miles  up  the  St.  Croix 
to  Taylor's  Falls,  where  is  the  grandest  scenery  in  the  state.  I 
was  in  ecstasy  all  the  time  we  were  passing  through  the  Upper 
Mississippi.  The  last  night  on  the  boat  I  sat  alone  on  the  upper 
deck  in  the  moonlight  till  twelve  o'clock,  and  got  up  the  next 
morning  at  half-past  four.  I  made  some  pleasant  acquaintances 
on  the  boat  and  enjoyed  the  whole  extremely.  I  saw  every  phase 
of  steamboat  life— gambling,  swearing,  drinking,  heard  darkies 
sing,  saw  an  Indian  war-dance,  witnessed  a  row  between  the 
darkies  and  Irishmen,  while  our  boat  took  part  in  a  race  with  the 
Phil  Sheridan,  in  which  we  beat  at  very  quick  time,  until  delayed 
by  our  wood  barge.  Minnesota  is  a  grand  state.  .  .  The  power 
of  the  sun  here  surpasses  anything  I  have  ever  known. 

Edward  had  a  prosperous  journey,  carrying  out  his  plan, 
and  making  delightful  visits  at  Beloit,  Chicago,  Milwaukee 
and  other  places,  and  returning  through  Montreal. 

From  New  Haven,  Sept.  i6th,  1867,  he  writes :  "I  am 
back  here  and  at  work  again.  We  recite  to  the  President 
one  day  in  Guizot's  History  of  Civilization,  and  the  next  to 
Prof.  Porter  in  Stewart's  Moral  Science.  Each  of  them  also 
gives  two  lectures  a  week  on  the  same  subject.  We  have  four 
lectures  and  two  recitations  a  week  in  Chemistry  and  two  in 
Astronomy.     It  is  delightful  to  be  under  Pres.  Woolsey, 


54      REMIXISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


whether  in  recitations  or  lectures.  His  thoughts  are  as  clear 
as  crystal,  and  though  very  simply  expressed,  they  are  pol- 
ished and  beautiful.  He  very  seldom  uses  illustrations,  and 
does  not  need  them." 

Looking  back  on  my  vacation,  I  feel  that  I  have  profited  by  it 
in  every  way.  My  ideas  seem  enlarged  from  having  seen  some- 
thing of  our  vast  country.  Then  I  have  seen  how  people  live  with- 
out complaint  on  the  bare  necessaries  of  life.  I  have  seen,  too, 
how  much  need  there  is  of  men  who  preach  the  pure  Gospel  of 
Christ,  leaving  out  denominational  bickerings  and  quarrels,  and 
do  it  from  a  pure  and  loving  heart.  My  visit  to  Washing- 
ton helped  to  dispel  the  illusion  with  which  I  had  regarded  politi- 
cal life,  and  this  has  strengthened  my  love  for  the  ministry.  I  be- 
lieve I  shall  feel  all  my  life  the  benefits  of  this  summer's  travels. 
Among  the  minor  advantages  have  been  a  knowledge  of  the 
geography  and  some  idea  of  the  resources  and  beauty  of  my  own 
country.  Moreover,  if  that  seems  to  be  the  call,  I  shall  be  perfect- 
ly ready  to  go  west  and  settle  any  where.  I  have  endeavored  to 
follow  out  father's  injunctions — have  studied  men  and  character 
and  Congregationalism,  and  have  tried  to  help  some  in  trouble, 
besides  keeping  up  a  full  journal,  which  I  shall  enjoy  reading  to 
you  next  December.  I  hope  I  have  advanced  some  in  my  Christian 
life,  and  that  I  shall  keep  on  faithfully  in  the  good  fight. 

Yale,  Sept.  30th,  1867. 
I  feel,  this  year,  as  if  I  were  in  a  new  world.  Some  things  seem 
more  and  others  less  in  importance.  This  is  owing,  I  suppose, 
to  the  character  of  our  studies,  to  my  realizing  sense  that  it  is 
my  last  year,  and  to  my  travels  this  summer.  .  .  In  Moral 
Philosophy  we  are  studying  the  Will,  and  learning  to  oppose  the 
views  of  Jonathan  Edwards  and  other  Necessitarians.  For  my 
part,  I  find  grave  doubts  and  perplexities  on  whichever  side  I  look. 

During  the  absence  of  his  elder  sister  abroad,  Edward  had 
kept  up  a  correspondence  with  her,  and  was  now  looking  for 
her  return  with  great  eagerness.  On  July  12th,  1868,  he 
writes  his  mother:  "My  imagination  is  vivid  enough  for  all 
ordinary  purposes,  but  I  wish  you  had  not  given  it  such  a 
strainin  your  letter.  "The dear  sister  arrived  last  night.  You 
can  imagine  all  the  rest."  Certainly,  I  can  imagine  a  num- 
ber of  things.  I  hear  her  calling  for  black  bread  and  cheese. 
I  think  of  her  as  her  own  dear  self,  immersed  in  trousseaux, 
with  orange  flowers  in  her  hair,  a  white  veil  floating  around 
her  in  the  background,  Hymen,  preparing  his  nuptial  torch. 
As  to  my  greetings,  T  cannot  trust  them  to  paper. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


55 


The  marriage  of  his  sister  to  Dr.  Pray  took  place  in  Brook- 
lyn, on  her  birthday,  July  i8th,  1868.  Her  father  performed 
the  ceremony,  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  the  bridegroom's  pas- 
tor, making  the  prayer.  How  little,  did  any  one  dream  what 
the  next  gathering  in  those  rooms  would  be  ! 

The  following  week  the  father  and  mother,  with  the  birth- 
day sister  and  the  newly  wedded  pair,  met  at  New  Haven  to 
attend  the  Commencement  exercises  and  to  hear  Edward's 
oration.  It  had  been  arranged  that  the  honeymoon  should 
be  passed  at  Orford,  N.  H.,  where  the  father,  having  re- 
signed his  professorship,  was  a  temporary  pastor.  So  Ores- 
tes and  Meta  Pray  soon  found  their  way  to  Orford,  while 
the  brother  lingered  to  pack  his  trunks  and  say  his  farewells. 

For  one  who  knew  Edward,  it  is  not  difficult  to  imagine 
the  reflections  and  emotions  connected  with  the  completion 
of  his  college  course,  and  his  parting  with  his  classmates  and 
friends,  and  with  the  President  and  various  members  of  the 
Faculty,  to  whom  he  had  become  warmly  attached. 

As  instances  of  the  regard  in  which  he  was  held  by  mem- 
bers of  his  class,  passages  are  given  from  letters  by  two 
of  them. 

From  Rev.  Dr.  William  Durant,  now  of  Saratoga 
Springs  : — 

It  was  a  severe  personal  loss,  as  well  as  a  shock  to  me,  when  I 
read  the  notice  of  Ned's  death.  In  college  I  had  come  to  know 
him  as  one  of  the  truest  of  men,  deferring  to  his  judgment  as 
wise  and  righteous  always,  admiring  the  calm  fidelity  with  which 
he  ever  pursued  his  high  ideals  in  methods  as  in  character,  and, 
afar  of¥,  trying  to  follow  the  splendid  example  he  gave.  After- 
wards he  was  one  of  those  whom  I  most  liked  to  meet.  It  was 
a  special  joy  to  me  when  we  were  associated  in  the  ministry  and 
in  the  Eclectic  Club  in  Baltimore.  Then  too,  he  produced  the 
effect  of  having  grown  younger,  because  amid  the  riper  wisdom 
which  experience  and  travel  had  given  him,  he  retained  more  than 
most  men  the  enthusiasm  of  youth,  consecrating  this  ardent  ener- 
gy to  his  Master  in  service  for  "His  brethren,  even  the  least." 
With  his  catholic  grasp  of  truth,  his  practical  appreciation  of  the 
best  in  modern  thought  and  research,  his  keen  touch  with  the  hope- 
ful, forward  movement,  and  his  generous,  sympathetic  loyalty  to 


56     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


the  "good  news  for  the  brotherhood  of  men,"  he  was  already 
harvesting  richer  and  more  precious  fruit  than  it  is  permitted 
many  to  gather.  To  be  taken  away  just  then  impels  the  question, 
"Why?"  It  seemed  as  if  he  was  most  needed  here,  that  he  was 
on  the  threshold  of  a  most  noble  and  useful  career  for  the 
Master. 

From  Mr.  Henry  P.  Wright,  now  Dean  of  the  college : — 

Your  son  had  a  wonderful  faculty  of  reaching  everybody.  Every 
member  of  our  class,  whatever  his  social  position  or  religious 
convictions,  always  listened  with  interest  when  he  had  anything 
to  say.  I  think  one  reason  was  that  he  was  so  perfectly  sincere. 
That  he  should  be  taken  away  in  the  midst  of  his  work  is  a 
mystery.  On  the  other  hand,  measured  by  its  achievement,  his  life 
was  long. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


A   YEAR  AT  PRINCETON. 

Loyalty  to  Christ  means  carrying  forward  in  our  century  the 
work  he  began  in  his;  not  only  worshipping  him  on  our  knees,  but 
working  with  him  on  our  feet;  not  only  keeping  up  with  the  rush 
of  the  times  ourselves,  but  helping  to  keep  in  step  some  poor  strag- 
glers that  have  no  heart  and  sound  legs  to  keep  up  with. — Rev.  Dr. 
Parkhurst. 

The  young  graduate  met  with  a  warm  welcome  in  the 
Granite  State,  and  the  days  were  filled  with  delightful  visits 
in  the  parish  and  with  various  excursions  in  the  beautiful 
region  around  Orford.  Among  the  guests  was  a  cousin, 
Miss  Martha  E.  Lawrence,  a  well-known  teacher  of  Lake 
Erie  College,  who  writes : — 

There  was  about  Edward  an  illumination  which  seemed  to  re- 
veal the  Christ  within  and  transfigure  him,  without  in  any  way 
overpowering  his  human  nature. 

I  have  always  treasured  a  picture  of  him,  one  Sunday  evening, 
at  prayers,  in  Orford,  N.  H.  It  was  just  after  his  graduation.  As 
he  gave  an  abstract  of  his  father's  sermon,  "I  must  be  about  my 
Father's  business,"  without  any  physical  resemblance  to  Hoff- 
man's Christ,  he  stood  there  a  strong  reminder  of  him. 

I  always  felt  that  the  man  Christ  stood  behind  the  human  man 
whom  I  called  cousin  Edward,  whether  he  preached  from  the  pul- 
pit, rowed  the  boat  with  half  a  dozen  of  us  in  it,  went  on  a  picnic 
to  the  fort,_  read  aloud  to  us  from  Meredith's  Egoist  or  some 
article  of  his  own,  played  with  Wallace,  or  helped  to  entertain 
company. 

I  was  much  struck  with  his  warm  friendship.  It  was  revealed 
far  more  by  the  glow  of  his  eyes  than  by  the  language  he  used. 
Like  every  one,  I  was  impressed  most  strongly  by  his  devotion 
to  his  mother  of  which  I  had  heard  from  his  boyhood,  and  which 
seemed  to  increase  with  his  years. 

After  much  consideration,  Edward  had  decided  to  spend 
a  year  in  Princeton,  mainly  for  the  study  of  Hebrew  under 
Prof.  Green,  and  after  that  to  pursue  his  studies  in  Germany. 
And  many  were  the  talks  about  his  future  plans. 


58      REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


The  days  at  Orford  flew  quickly  by,  and  the  happy  circle 
disbanded  and  went  their  several  ways, — the  young  couple 
to  their  Brooklyn  home,  and  the  son  setting  his  face  towards 
Princeton,  while  not  long  after  the  parents  removed  to  Mar- 
blehead. 

Orthodoxton,  24  Brown  Hall,  Sept.  nth,  1868. 
Had  I  known  you  would  leave  for  Marblehead  so  soon,  I  would 
have  remained  to  help  you.  Will  you  believe  that  I  have  come 
here  to  study  theology  with  a  Concordance,  Prayer  Book,  and  a 
Greek  Testament,  but  without  an  English  Bible!!  Hebrew  is  pro- 
gressing under  the  auspices  of  Prof.  Green.  He  meets  us  six  times 
a  week',  and  is  a  remarkably  fine  teacher,  and  very  patient  and 
earnest.  Dr.  McGill  is  also  a  charming  man,  suave  and  bland  and 
simple  as  a  child.  We  have  him  once  a  week  in  Homiletics,  Dr. 
Hodge  twice  in  Exegesis,  Prof.  Hodge  once  in  New  Testament 
Literature,  and  Dr.  Moffat  once  in  Church  History.  The  latter 
is  a  fine,  old  Scotchman,  with  the  kindest  heart.  It  struck  me 
quite  strangely,  at  first,  to  have  a  prayer  at  the  beginning  of  every 
recitation  or  lecture.  If  it  does  not  degenerate  into  a  mere  form, 
I  shall  like  it. 

Sept.  22d. 

I  called,  last  night,  on  Mrs.  Prof.  Aiken,  and  had  a  right  pleasant 
evening.  It  had  been  nearly  three  weeks  since  I  had  spoken  to 
a  lady,  and  I  did  not  know  before  how  much  I  should  miss  their 
company. 

Sept.  24th. 

I  have  just  come  back  from  a  class  meeting,  at  which  a  Debating 
Club  was  formed.  I  have  good  elocution  practice.  But  my  great 
work  is  Hebrew.  Next  in  importance  comes  Prof.  Hodge's 
Exegesis  on  Romans,  which  we  have  twice  a  week.  I  am  also  at- 
tending Dr.  Hodge's  theological  lectures  to  the  Middle  and  Senior 
classes.  More  than  all,  I  trust  that  I  am  coming  nearer  my  Saviour 
and  learning  something  of  my  own  weakness  and  consequently 
of  his  strength.  I  try  to  act  on  Prof.  Northrup's  advice  and  not 
play  the  hermit. 

Oct.  I2th. 

Dr.  Hodge  lectured,  to-day,  on  the  various  theories  concerning 
the  origin  of  evil,  and  pretty  effectually  demolished  five  or  six  of 
them.  .  .  The  board  now  is  very  good.  Every  night  I  have  a 
large  bowl  of  bread  and  milk,  and  with  that,  you  know,  I  do  very 
well. 

Last  night,  while  I  was  in  Alf  Myers's  room,  he  and  his  chum 
were  engaged  in  a  little  gymnastic  scuffling  at  a  rather  late  hour. 
A  series  of  knocks  came  from  the  floor,  and  they  stopped  at  once. 
This  morning  a  Senior  called  and  spoke  of  the  disturbance.  They 
apologized  for  the  late  hour,  saying  it  should  not  occur  again. 
The  Senior  went  on  to  say  that,  if  he  might  go  still  farther,  he 
would  express  the  fear  that  such  undue  levity  was  inconsistent 
with  tlie  Christian  character.     He  thought  there  was  danger  of 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


59 


grieving  the  Spirit  by  such  conduct.  While  expressing  their  en- 
tire dissent,  they  treated  him  courteously.  A  great  deal  was  im- 
plied in  his  tone  that  cannot  be  expressed,  though,  if  I  could  draw 
a  picture  of  a  long  solemncholy  face,  with  pursed-up  mouth,  you 
might  get  some  idea  of  it.  But  what  will  such  a  man  do  in  the 
world? 

There  are  many  things  about  which  I  want  to  talk  with  you  and 
father.  Meantime,  I  watch  and  ponder  and  read  and  think  and 
pray.  I  want  more  and  more  to  remember  that  I  am  to  address 
human  nature,  and  to  study  that  in  the  light  of  God's  word,  and 
the  observations  of  others,  and  of  my  own.  .  .  Please  leave  all 
the  hard  work  about  the  house  for  me  to  do,  when  I  come  home. 
If  at  any  time  you  wish  for  me,  don't  hesitate  to  let  me  know  it. 

Edward  started,  one  day,  to  walk  with  a  classmate  to  New 
York — about  fifty  miles.  At  two  o'clock  in  the  morning 
they  took  a  lunch  and  then  set  forth,  expecting  to  reach  the 
city  at  four  P.  M.  They  had  walked  as  far  as  New  Bruns- 
wick, when  the  pouring  rain  broke  up  their  plans. 

In  a  letter  of  Oct.  31st,  he  describes  Pres.  McCosh's  In- 
auguration : — 

I  succeeded  in  getting  a  standing  place,  such  as  it  was,  near 
enough  to  hear  well,  and  there  I  stood  for  four  hours.  Dr.  McCosh 
held  the  immense  audience  for  two  hours  by  a  discussion  of 
university  study  and  university  reform.  He  took  a  middle 
ground  between  those  who  would  sweep  away  all  the  old  land- 
marks, and  those  who  cannot  listen  to  anything  new.  In  the  even- 
ing he  held  a  reception  at  his  house,  while  outside,  the  College 
Green  was  lighted  by  hundreds  of  Chinese  lanterns,  under  which 
fair  maids  and  brave  men  promenaded,  arm  in  arm,  listening  to 
delightful  music  from  the  band.  But  where  was  my  maid,  O 
Muse?  Some  of  the  college  students  are  very  conceited.  On 
Tuesday,  they  applauded  at  the  most  inappropriate  times, — onct 
when  the  name  of  Christ  was  mentioned. 

Edward  bcame  greatly  interested  in  a  German  student, 

who  was  trying  to  pay  his  way  in  the  University  by  teaching 

German,  but  who  was  not  very  practical.    He  helped  him 

to  a  better  room,  and  assisted  him  in  Hebrew,  advising  him 

in  other  ways. 

In  the  latter  part  of  December  he  went  to  Marblehead,  and 
then  innumerable  matters  were  talked  over.  After  his  re- 
turn, on  Jan.  17th,  1869,  he  writes  of  his  journey  from 
Springfield : — 


6o     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


The  familiar  old  cry  of  the  conductor,  "VV-a-a-re  House  P'int," 
almost  took  me  from  the  cars,  in  the  expectation  of  seeing  Nelly 
and  the  red  wagon,  with  some  one  to  meet  me.  .  .  I  reached 
New  Haven  just  as  the  college  bell  was  calling  to  afternoon  recita- 
tion, and  on  the  way  up  met  Ned  Rawson.  He  was  passing  me, 
when  at  once  his  face  became  radiant,  and  out  came  two  strong 
hands  to  grasp  mine.  I  promised  to  spend  the  night  with  him  and 
Robert  Hume.  Tinker  and  Will  Wood  were  in  their  room,  and 
I  was  well  shaken  with  one  at  each  hand.  Mrs.  Porter's  tea  table, 
where  I  had  my  old  seat,  looked  as  cheerful  as  ever.  Mrs.  Porter 
spoke  of  Miss  Marie  Cooke  as  saying  that  it  was  her  great  hope 
for  Margaret's  son  that  he  should  become  a  good  churchman.  I 
called  at  President  Woolsey's,  and  found  the  three  daughters  at 
home,  playing  a  blue-stocking  game.  The  next  morning  I  called 
on  the  President  and  received  a  general  letter  of  recommendation, 
stamped  with  the  official  seal. 

Princeton,  Jan.  24th,  1869. 

I  am  now,  my  dear  mother,  comfortably  settled  and  at  work 
again.  We  are  taking  fourteen  verses  of  Hebrew  a  day  and  con- 
stantly increasing.  But  the  week  has  been  unusually  busy  with 
what  came  near  being  a  fatal  tragedy.  My  German  friend,  rend- 
ered desperate  by  certain  circumstances,  attempted  suicide.  He 
called  at  the  druggist's  for  a  bottle  of  morphine,  and  took  nearly 
the  whole.  On  returning  from  the  Wednesday  evening  meeting, 
of  which  I  had  taken  charge,  I  was  told  that  he  was  in  great 
agony,  and  was  calling  for  me.  I  found  the  poor  fellow  tossing 
about  on  his  bed,  only  half  conscious,  and  saying  that  he  had  but 
half  an  hour  to  live.  I  instantly  summoned  a  physician,  while  I 
held  his  hand  and  tried  to  soothe  him.  I  told  him  the  doctor 
would  shortly  be  here,  but  he  only  cried,  "Too  late!  too  late!" 
But  when  the  doctor  appeared,  on  examining  the  bottle,  he  said  it 
was  not  morphine,  but  quinine,  although  he  had  taken  almost 
enough  of  that  to  kill  him.  The  apothecaries  are  not  allowed  to 
sell  morphine  without  a  prescription,  so  that  his  evident  purpose 
was  forestalled.  I  was  up  with  him  a  good  part  of  that  and  the 
following  night,  and  had  charge  of  everything. 

Tuesday.  My  patient  is  quite  recovered  anu  about  his  recitations. 
At  the  Refectory  we  have  a  very  pleasant  company.  At  breakfast, 
however,  I  see  but  few  of  my  friends,  as  I  am  uniformly  early,  and 
most  of  the  others  are  uniformly  late.  Good  manners  and  atten- 
tion to  the  wants  of  others  prevail  extensively.  .  .  A  fine,  new 
Presbyterian  church  has  just  been  dedicated.  I  like  it  very  much, 
on  one  account.  It  is  all  true.  There  are  stained  windows,  but 
no  frescoing.  All  ornamentation  is  in  carved  wood  and  every- 
thing is  what  it  seems  to  be.  .  .  My  German  patient  had  hardly 
got  well,  when  one  of  my  classmates  in  some  way  wrenched  his 
neck,  so  that  any  attempt  to  move  it,  caused  him  agony.  I  ap- 
plied remedies,  put  him  to  bed,  and  helped  him  all  "l  could.  He 
is  well  now,  and  I  am  again  free.  I  say  free,  though  not  because 
it  was  other  than  a  great  pleasure  to  be  able  to  do  anything  for 
him.    I  should  never  consider  that  a  burden  .    But,  of  course, 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


6i 


there  were  other  duties  that  I  neglected  for  the  sake  of  this  high- 
er one. 

Our  class  is  now  preaching  sermons  at  the  rate  of  four  a  week. 
These  discourses  are  written  and  committed  to  memory.  I  shall  not 
write  mine  out,  however,  as  I  want  to  make  my  first  trial  of  an  ex- 
tempore sermon  where  I  can  be  criticised. 

There  is  a  so-called  Parsonage  School-House,  about  four  miles 
distant,  which  gathers,  every  Sunday,  twenty  or  thirty  persons, 
who  are  mostly  dependent  on  our  students.  Some  one  called  last 
night,  asking  me  to  take  the  place  of  a  Senior,  who  had  been  ob- 
liged to  leave  tO\vn.  I  hesitated,  but  was  decided  by  a  resolution 
I  had  made  never  to  refuse  anything  of  the  kind  without  some 
very  good  reason.  I  had  only  this  morning  for  pn^paration,  so  I 
stayed  at  home  from  the  chapel.  There  were  in  thi;  school-house 
between  twenty-five  and  thirty.  My  text  was,  "If  ye  love  me,  keep 
my  commandments."  I  was  surprised,  when  I  found  my  half-hour 
gone,  and  am  pleased  to  know  that  I  can  think  while  on  my  feet. 
Of  course,  I  have  often  made  addresses,  but  never  to  have  the  sole 
charge,  and  with  what  could  be  called  a  sermon.  I  have  had  a 
good  talk  with  Dr.  Green  on  the  low  state  of  piety  among  us.  He 
has  a  warm,  sensitive  heart,  and  will  do  all  he  can  to  promote  a 
better  state  of  things.  .  .  For  the  last  few  mornings  I  have  tak- 
en a  light  breakfast  in  my  room,  brought  over  from  the  Club 
the  night  before.    I  feel  better  foi  this  simple  fare,  and  gain  time. 

Tliis  habit  of  a  light  breakfast  Edward  kept  up  to  a  great 

extent  through  his  life,  and,  as  he  felt,  with  advantage. 

Feb.  14th. 

I  preached  my  experiment  sermon,  last  Thursday  night,  and 
then  sat  down  and  wrote  it  out.  I  shall  be  glad  of  your  criticisms. 
Prof.  Hodge  supposed  it  was  written,  and  said  some  kind  things 
about  it.  My  text  was.  "If  we  live  in  the  Spirit,  let  us  also  walk 
in  the  Spirit."  It  is  the  practice  here  to  congratulate  those  who 
are  thought  to  have  preached  a  good  sermon.  But  when  many 
came  to  me  with  outstretched  hands,  where  I  could  do  so,  I  held 
back.  I  took  this  ground,  because  there  is  a  tendency  to  regard 
the  exercise  as  a  merely  literary  and  rhetorical  one.  Indeed,  it  is 
rather  the  custom  to  write  an  elaborate  and  highly  polished  essay, 
reminding  one  of  prize  debates. 

As  to  the  style  of  meeting  and  parting  with  general  ac- 
quaintances, Edward  expressed  himself  plainly.  "I  don't 
know  how  others  feel,  but  for  myself  I  strongly  object  to 
making  a  male  Copenhagen,  even  with  college  friends.  I 
like  them,  I  respect  them,  I  admire  them,  but — a  kiss  is  too 
sacred  to  be  made  thus  common.  I  quite  agree  with  you  in 
this,  regarding  it  as  a  symbol  of  something  very  deep  and 
hallowed." 


62      REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Some  years  later,  in  describing  a  journey,  he  writes : — 

My  companion  in  the  cars  was  a  dentist,  who,  in  the  course  of 
our  conversation,  said:  '"Don't  let  people  kiss  babies  on  the 
mouth,  but  back  of  the  ear,  if  they  must  kiss  them.  I  have  had 
bitter  experience.  One  child  was  killed  by  the  kiss  of  our  cook, 
who  had  diphtheretic  sore  throat.  She  was  strong  enough  to 
overcome  it,  but  it  killed  my  baby.  This  summer  my  little  boy 
of  three  months  died  of  whooping  cough,  which  he  took  from  a 
little  girl  who  had  just  kissed  another  child,  at  school,  who  had 
the  cough."  So  you  see  there  is  quite  as  much  reason  against 
kissing  babies,  as  the  promiscuous  kissing  of  grown  people. 

Feb.  22d,  1869. 

Washington's  birthday,  but  no  respect  paid  to  it  here.  Alf  Myers 
had  a  criticism  to  read  in  his  class,  but  went  home,  leaving  it  in 
charge  of  a  friend,  with  a  sentence  added,  "The  writer  regrets  that 
he  has  been  obliged  to  procure  a  substitute  to  read  this  criticism, 
but  in  his  native  state,  it  has  long  been  the  custom  to  honor  the 
father  of  our  country  by  observing  his  birthday  with  due  respect, 
and  he  has  deemed  it  a  duty  and  a  pleasure  to  take  that  day,  which 
in  the  public  schools  is  given  as  a  holiday."  There  was  a  general 
smile  when  this  was  read.  .  .  A  friend  tells  me  of  a  town  where 
the  congregation  decided  to  have  the  clerk  line  out  two  verses  at 
a  time,  instead  of  one.  But  on  the  first  occasion,  an  old  deacon 
threw  down  his  hymn  book  and  marched  out.  The  next  day  he 
thus  took  leave  of  the  church: — "You're  a  goin'  jest  clean  ag'in 
Scripter,  and  I'll  have  nothing  to  do  with  ye.  The  Scripter  says, 
'Line  upon  line,  here  a  little  and  there  a  little,'  and  when  you 
leave  that,  you're  on  the  road  to  destruction.  .  .'  The  other  day, 
John  Lockwood  gave  me  a  book  238  years  old,  Buxtorf's  Hcbrczv 
Lexicon,  published  in  1631.    I  always  appreciate  such  a  gift. 

I  am  in  for  it  now.  Senior  Page  told  me  that  the  people  to 
whom  I  preached  my  first  sermon  were  desirous  to  have  me 
preach  for  them  the  first  Sunday  of  every  month,  so  after  a  little 
hesitation,  I  agreed  to  do  this. 

I  shall,  probably,  sail  either  the  24th  of  April  or  the  ist  of  ]\Iay. 
I  should  be  delighted  if  you  could  both  come  to  Princeton  and 
then  see  me  ofif.  My  dear  father  and  mother,  you  seem  to  be  con- 
stantly with  me,  advising,  helping,  loving  me.  I  suppose  I  have 
this  impression  the  more,  because  I  have  been  away  so  much,  and 
yet  have  always  felt  your  influence  and  care.  And  why  should  it  not 
be  so?  The  one  thing  I  am  assured  of  is  your  love.  This  prin- 
ciple of  love,  this  trust  in  the  soul  of  another,  will  be  just  as  real 
to  me  when  I  am  thousands  of  miles  away,  as  when  I  am  at  your 
side.  Yet  this  cannot  always  supply  what  I  need.  If  I  am  sad, 
T  want  a  token  of  that  love,  as  well  as  a  knowledge  of  it.  In 
Germany,  I  may  have  times  of  great  homesickness. 

I  have  heard  Dr.  John  Hall  twice,  this  week.  It  seems  to  me 
that  his  great  power  lies  in  his  noble  Christian  heart.  His  humility 
and  love  strike  you  in  whatever  he  says.    There  are   no   graces  of 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


63 


oratory,  but  he  drives  everything  right  home,  and  he  uses  many 
forcible  iUustrations.  .  .  One  of  my  classmates  read  a  sermon, 
this  week,  before  his  class,  in  which  he  described  the  finding  of 
Moses  in  the  bulrushes.  He  pictured  the  Princess  bending  over 
the  child  as  it  laughingly  looked  in  her  face.  In  criticising,  Dr. 
McGill,  in  his  bland,  quiet  tones,  simply  remarked,  "You  should 
be  careful  not  to  mislead  ordinary  hearers.  The  Scripture  account 
is  that  she  saw  the  child,  and  behold  the  babe  wept." 

It  is  just  announced  that  the  India  will  sail  on  the  loth  of 
April.  She  is  reported  to  be  the  newest,  best  and  safest  ship  on 
the  line.    It  may  be  best  to  go  even  as  early  as  that. 

As  Edward  was  very  desirous  of  a  visit  from  his  parents, 
before  he  left  Princeton,  and  as  Prof.  Green  and  others  sent 
a  request  that  his  father  should  read  one  of  his  Lowell  lec- 
tures before  the  Professors'  Club,  the  visit  was  decided  on. 
And  a  delightful  one  it  proved,  including  a  home  at  Prof. 
Aiken's,  a  breakfast  at  Pres.  McCosh's,  an  evening  at  Prof. 
Green's,  as  well  as  interviews  with  most  of  the  professors 
and  with  a  number  of  Edward's  fellow-students.  Extracts 
from  a  letter  by  one  of  the  members  of  his  class  are  given, 
and  also  from  one  by  Prof.  Green,  of  whom  Edward  always 
spoke  in  the  warmest  terms,  both  as  an  instructor  and  as  a 
man. 

The  impression  that  Ned  made  upon  me,  when  we  first  met  in 
Princeton,  was  one  of  a  remarkably  strong  and  symmetrical  man- 
hood, an  impression  that  deepened  as  time  passed.  I  used  to  ad- 
mire his  robust  frame,  as  he  took  long  tramps  and  sawed  wood 
without  apparent  fatigue.  He  was  equally  vigorous  and  tireless 
as  a  student,  working  for  hours  together,  standing  at  a  high  desk. 
For  recreation  he  turned  often  to  his  flute.  He  was  always  fresh 
and  cheery,  free  from  moods  or  any  morbid  tendencies.  While 
so  strong,  he  was  never  abrupt,  or  sharp.  Quick  of  perception, 
he  never  endangered  wounding  others  by  saying  bright  things 
that  might  hurt  sensitive  feelings.  There  was  a  remarkable  frank- 
ness and  transparency  about  him,  that  made  one  sure  of  looking 
through  his  eyes  into  a  well  so  pure  that  it  had  nothing  to  hide, 
and  therefore  made  no  attempt  at  concealment.  While  peculiar- 
ly manly  in  every  respect,  he  yet  had  a  fascinating  boyishness.  He 
was  simple,  straightforward,  spontaneous.  I  need  not  add  that 
we  all  admired  his  scholarship.  I  well  remember  his  recitation?, 
showing  so  clear  and  thorough  a  mastery  of  his  subjects.  And 
with  all  this  his  deep,  fervent,  healthy  spirituality  impressed  me. 

From  Prof.  Green  : — 

For  your  son  I  have  always  felt  a  very  warm  and  cordial  rc- 


64      REMINISCENCES  OF.  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


gard.  His  form  is  now  before  me,  as  he  was  during  the  year  that 
he  spent  in  this  Seminary.  I  was  greatly  impressed  by  his  fidehty 
and  diligence  and  the  ability  which  he  manifested.  He  had  a  mind 
of  a  high  order,  and  he  was  thoroughly  devoted  to  the  work  which 
he  had  undertaken.  The  success  which  has  crowned  his  self-deny- 
ing labors,  and  the  attachment  felt  for  him  by  those  who  were 
brought  into  contact  with  him,  is  no  surprise  to  those  acquainted 
with  the  thoroughness  of  his  work  and  the  excellence  of  his  char- 
acter. 

Before  Edward  went  abroad  he  desired  to  procure  a  li- 
cense, simply,  however,  that  he  might  feel  at  hberty  to 
preach  an  occasional  sermon,  if  this  should  be  desirable. 
But  as  a  full  theological  course  was  usually  regarded  as  es- 
sential, the  New  York  and  Brooklyn  Association  objected 
to  making  an  exception.  By  the  advice  of  some  of  its  mem- 
bers, however,  he  concluded  to  make  an  application.  When, 
therefore,  he  had  said  farewell  to  Princeton,  he  proceeded 
with  his  mother  to  Brooklyn,  while  his  father,  according  to 
a  previous  arrangement,  went  to  Washington. 

When  the  Association  met,  there  were  several  Union 
Seminary  students  who  presented  themselves  for  examina- 
tion, for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  a  license.  These  students 
had  been  through  the  three  years'  course,  while  Edward  had 
been  at  Princeton  only  one  year.  But  his  examination  in 
theolog>'  was  considered  quite  as  satisfactory  as  that  of  any 
of  the  candidates  for  license,  so  that  it  was  felt  that,  if  the  As- 
sociation licensed  any  of  the  members,  they  could  not  ex- 
cept him.  And  he  received  a  license,  although  not  design- 
ing to  make  much  use  of  it. 

Edward  writes  to  his  father  : — 

New  York,  April  4th,  1869. 

We  have  just  reached  the  rectory,  (of  Ascension  Church)  after 
doing  a  good  deal  of  work.  Mother  will  give  you  the  particulars 
as  to  my  license.  I  am  glad  that  I  took  the  step,  although,  when 
they  were  discussing  my  being  admitted  to  examination,  I  felt  as 
if  it  were  quite  a  brazen  act  on  my  part.  They  all  looked  surprised 
when  it  was  announced  that  I  was  a  member  of  the  Junior  class 
at  Princeton.  I  like  the  steamer  on  which  I  am  to  sail,  and  have 
secured  a  good  berth.    I  leave  home  with  many  regrets  and  many 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


6S 


sad  feelings,  but  with  the  hope  of  benefit  to  myself  and  thus  to  the 
world. 

Edward  made  a  little  visit  to  his  sister  Meta,  in  Brooklyn, 
and  then,  on  April  loth,  went  on  board  the  India.  There 
were  with  him  his  mother,  Dr.  Pray  and  other  friends  to  bid 
him  God  speed. 


CHAPTER  VII. 
UNIVERSITY   LIFE   IN  GERMANY. 

Still  on  the  lips  of  all  we  question 

The  finger  of  God's  silence  lies. 
Shall  the  lost  hands  in  ours  be  folded? 

Will  the  shut  eyelids  ever  rise? 

O  friends!  no  proof  beyond  this  yearning, 

This  outreach  of  our  souls  we  need; 
God  will  not  mock  the  hope  He  giveth. 

No  love  He  prompts  shall  vainly  plead. 

Then  let  us  stretch  our  hands  in  darkness, 

And  call  our  loved  ones  o'er  and  o'er; 
Some  time  their  arms  shall  close  about  us, 

And  the  old  voices  speak  once  more. 

— Whittier. 

Steamship  India. 
6.30  p.  m.,  April  loth,  1869. 

Dear  Mother: — 

Your  love  follows  me  everywhere,  and  I  am  con- 
stantly reminded  of  your  watchful  care.  I  was  completely  sur- 
prised at  the  discovery  of  my  large  mail  bag,  and  by  the  pictures 
of  several  of  my  classmates.    .  . 

Evening,  10  o'clock.  .  .  Permission  from  the  Captain  has 
been  obtained  to  have  prayers  every  evening  at  nine  o'clock.  To- 
night, "The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd,"  was  read,  and  it  helped  me 
much.  That  I  have  Christ  with  me  always  is  an  unspeakable  com- 
fort.  I  commit  you  all  to  his  charge. 

April  iith,  5.30. 

All  smooth  and  quiet  so  far.  The  only  motion  on  the  water  is  the 
long,  rolling  swell,  which  keeps  heaving  up  the  surface  of  the  deep. 
I  have  been  watching  the  gulls  as  they  float  on  the  air  with  out- 
stretched wings,  dive  into  the  water,  swim  on  its  surface  and  then 
rise  with  long,  measured  stroke  of  their  wings. 

April  i6th. 

I  cannot  write  much  with  the  vessel  lurching  from  one  side  to 
the  other,  so  that  I  have  to  hold  my  ink  bottle  in  one  hand  to  keep 
it  safe.  It  is  very  comical  to  see  the  way  in  which  things  slip  and 
slide  about.  I  stand  before  my  wash-basin  in  the  morning,  and 
one  minute  find  my  head  rushing  for  the  door,  and  the  next,  my 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


67 


feet  kicking  against  the  lounge.  We  hold  our  soup  plates  in  our 
hands,  and  then  make  a  rush  for  the  contents. 

All  this  time,  I  have  said  nothing  of  the  grand,  majestic  ocean. 
I  feel  how  inadequate  have  been  all  descriptions  to  give  one  any 
idea  of  it.  I  have  now  seen  it  in  all  its  moods — no,  I  don't  mean 
that,  for  they  are  ever  changing.  But  I  have  seen  it  smile  and 
frown,  weep  and  laugh,  sing  and  rage,  by  day  and  by  night.  It 
grows  on  me  in  all  its  beauty  and  grandeur.  I  have  no  fear  for  my- 
self, I  only  fear  for  the  souls  on  board,  who  would  not  be  ready 
to  go  if  the  call  came.  While  the  power  of  the  storm  awes  me, 
the  elastic  vigor  of  the  ship,  united  with  such  perfect  submission, 
makes  me  wonder  even  more.  It  resists  not,  only  endures,  sinks 
only  to  rise,  bends  only  to  erect  itself.  Every  wave  seems  made 
up  of  an  army  of  beings,  all  pressing,  hurrying  on,  lifting  them- 
selves in  sheets  of  foam  above  the  general  mass.  Then  the  ex- 
quisite shades  of  green,  which  rise  in  the  wake  of  the  vessel,  the 
general  color  of  the  waters,  now  pitch  black,  now  reflecting  the 
blue  of  the  sky,  with  an  added  depth,— all  these  things  charm  me. 

The  passage  was  enlivened  by  his  daily  mail,  the  dates  in 
which  the  letters  were  to  be  read  being  notified.  There 
were  letters  grave  and  letters  gay.  Extracts  are  given  from 
one  of  these,  by  a  classmate,  as  showing  the  influence  that 
Edward  unconsciously  exerted: — 

This  farewell  letter  speaks  of  a  vacant  room  opposite  me,  of  per- 
plexities in  Hebrew,  with  no  Ned  to  relieve  them,  of  much  that  is 
sad.  Inasmuch  as  you  are  leaving  me,  do  let  me  tell  you  the  high 
respect  you  have  elicited  during  the  few  months  of  our  acquaint- 
ance. I  have  watched  you  carefully,  and  long  will  my  impressions 
remain,  and,  I  trust,  work  out  practical  results  in  my  life.  .  . 
If  any  other  doubting,  shrinking  one  comes  to  you  as  I  did,  talk 
to  him  as  you  did  to  me.  From  the  first,  I  have  been  impressed 
with  one  prominent  characteristic:  Your  strength  has  amazed 
me.  "Upon  what  meat  doth  this  our  Caesar  feed,  that  he  is 
grown  so  great?"  I  would  like  to  know  how  to  gain  such 
strength  of  mind  and  character.  I  am  a  natural  hero-worshipper, 
and  you  will  long  be  a  hero  of  mine.  If  your  life  is  spared,  you 
may  do  any  amount  of  good.  You  have  as  strong  a  momentum 
about  you  as  almost  any  man  I  ever  saw.  .  .  May  the  divine 
benediction,  in  all  fulness,  rest  upon  you  through  life ! 

Landing  at  Glasgow,  in  his  usual  exploring  fashion,  Ed- 
ward sought  out  the  various  places  of  interest ;  then  visited 
at  Mr.  Stoddard's  in  Port  Glasgow ;  and  from  there  went  to 
Edinburgh,  of  which  he  speaks  enthusiastically.  From  Rot- 
terdam he  writes:  "Imagine  me  making  a  hash  of  English, 


68      REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


French  and  German,  and  trying  to  induce  these  Hollanders 
to  digest  it." 

From  Antwerp,  of  the  two  masterpieces  of  Rubens's,"The 
Elevation  of  the  Cross"  and  the  "Descent  from  the  Cross," 
he  writes : — 

They  are  on  opposite  sides  of  the  Cathedral  and  I  passed  from 
one  side  to  the  other  in  mute  admiration.  I  was  much  struck  with 
the  difiference  between  the  expression  of  anguish  on  the  face  of 
the  Madonna  in  the  former,  and  the  look  of  settled  sorrow  in 
the  other.  In  the  Museum  is  a  painting  of  the  Crucifixion  by 
Vandyke,  with  Mary  leaning  against  the  cross.  Her  despairing 
look  brought  tears  to  my  eyes,  and  haunts  me  yet.  I  left  only 
when  the  keeper  told  me  it  was  time  to  close.  .  .  But  the 
Cathedral  in  Cologne!  I  can  only  say  that  when  its  grandeur 
dawned  on  me,  I  could  do  nothing  but  pray.  It  was  sometime 
before  I  realized  it,  and  then  it  came  over  me  with  a  strange  pow- 
er. I  could  have  knelt  on  the  steps  before  the  altar  in  adoration. 
If  God  permits  such  works  to  his  creatures,  what  must  his  own 
heavenly  mansions  be? 

Wishing  to  make  himself  at  home  in  the  German  language 

as  soon  as  possible,  Edward  shunned  the  beaten  track  ot 

English  and  American  travellers,  and  went  to  Wiirzburg. 

On  April  15th,  only  five  days  after  his  departure  from  New 

York,  Dr.  Pray,  his  sister's  husband,  wrote  him  of  the  birth 

of  a  daughter.   But  the  letter  was  hardly  despatched,  when 

his  mother  was  called  to  send  him  the  following  clipping : — • 

By  a  distressing  accident  which  took  place  last  week  on  the  Long 
Island  Railroad,  not  far  from  Jamaica,  the  breaking  of  a  defective 
rail  detached  the  forward  truck  of  a  car,  and  the  car  was  dragged 
over  it,  breaking  up  the  floor,  and  killing  six  of  the  passengers 
outright,  besides  wounding  several  more.  The  bodies  of  the  killed 
were  horribly  mangled.  Three  of  the  passengers  belonged  to  one 
family  circle,  whose  worth  and  sorrow  have  awakened  a  wide 
and  deep  interest — Mr.  W.  H.  Rushmore,  president  of  the  At- 
lantic Bank,  Brooklyn;  Mrs.  Pray,  sister-in-law  of  Mr.  R.;  and 
Dr.  Orestes  M.  Pray,  her  son,  a  young  physician  of  the  best 
promise. 

Dr.  Pray,  the  third  victim  in  the  family  of  this  calamity,  was 
the  youngest  child  of  the  above-named  lady.  He  was  accompanying 
his  mother.  After  the  wreck,  stranger  hands  laid  side  by  side  two 
bodies  unidentified.  They  were  afterwards  recognized  as  mother 
and  son. 

Wurzburg,  May  nth,  1869. 
I  came  into  my  room,  yesterday  afternoon,  and  found  a  letter 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


69 


on  my  lounge,  mailed  April  27.  The  first  thing  that  caught  my 
eye  was  the  clipping  it  contained.  I  turned  to  the  letter  and  read 
a  few  lines  on  each  page  without  comprehending  it.  I  looked 
again  at  the  clipping  and  went  over  it  mechanically,  yet  could 
not  realize  what  had  happened.  I  read  it  over  two  or  three  times 
before  my  brain  received  what  my  eyes  told  me.  And  he  is  gonel 
Gone  so  suddenly,  so  fearfully!  Everything  about  me  is  a  re- 
minder of  him,  my  guide-book,  his  notes,  his  letter  so  joyfully 
announcing  the  birth  of  little  Florence,  which  I  received  the  second 
day  after  I  came  here. 

May  i2th. 

I  have  just  finished  a  letter  to  Meta,  which  I  shall  send  by  the 
same  steamer.  I  long  for  the  time  when  I  can  take  care  of  you  all, 
and  have  the  whole  family  gathered  into  my  house,  which,  I  trust, 
will  be  in  four  or  five  years.  But  it  is  all  in  the  hands  of  God.  . 
.  It  keeps  coming  up  and  choking  me,  although  I  go  through 
my  duties  as  before.  May  the  band  which  waved  me  adieu  from 
the  dock  be  no  more  broken  into,  till  I  see  them  again.  I  feel 
what  I  cannot  express.  The  sense  of  sickening  loss  I  meet  by  the 
love  of  Christ. 

May  24th. 

It  grieves  me,  dear  mother,  that  you  sufTer  so  much  under  this 
heavy  burden,  which  God  has  laid  upon  us.  I  feel  the  loss  most 
deeply.  I  mourn  for  those  who  are  left.  But  I  ask  myself,  do  I 
really  believe  in  the  love  of  Christ  for  his  own?  If  I  do,  I  must 
receive  this  stroke,  not  merely  with  a  dull  submission,  but  in 
trust  and  hope.  Although  it  is  incomprehensible  to  me  now,  I 
must  feel  that  it  is  the  best  thing  for  us.  None  the  less  do  I  mourn 
the  loss  for  myself  and  all  the  stricken  ones,  but  there  is  no  bit- 
terness in  the  cup.  Ress  sees  why  it  was  done,  and  rejoices  in 
that  love  which  out  of  this  sorrow  will  bring  good  fruit.  What 
would  be  the  value  of  all  my  professions  of  trust  in  Christ,  if  I 
could  not  say  just  this?  And  for  darling  Meta,  there  certainly 
comes  help  from  on  high.  .  .  Is  this  body  all?  Does  she  not 
know  that  Ress  is  with  her  in  spirit?  Is  not  Christ's  love  more 
than  all  else?  And  would  he  do  aught  except  in  love?  Ah,  dear 
mother,  we  are  so  bound  to  this  mortal  life  that  whatever  beclouds 
it  seems  frightful  and  dreary.  But  what  should  keep  me  here  save 
the  cause  of  Christ?  If  then,  that  cause  calls  a  dear  one  away, 
shall  I  murmur?  Was  it  not  Christ  who  gave  Ress  to  Meta?  Was 
it  not  he  that  put  so  much  of  bliss  in  their  brief  miteinanderleben? 
Is  he  less  loving  now  than  before?  It  is  not  of  myself  that  I  feel 
thus,  but  through  Christ  who  is  with  me.  Then  do  not  let  your 
poor  heart  wear  out  in  sorrow,  but  rejoice  in  him,  who,  having 
given  himself,  will  surely  give  all  we  need.  .  .  Remember  this 
always,  dear  mother.  As  I  came  here,  not  for  pleasure,  but  from 
duty,  I  am  ready  at  once  to  give  up  my  plans  and  go  home  when- 
ever duty  says,  "Go  Back."  That  duty  may  speak  through  your 
mouth.  If  It  does,  let  me  hear  it.  I  believe  that  Christ  has  a  work 
for  me  to  do,  and  that  I  must  prepare  myself  for  it  with  all  dili- 
gence and  care.    But  filial  duties  are  among  the  highest. 


70     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


After  two  or  three  months  at  Wiirzburg,  where  he  stud- 
ied with  Dr.  Miinde,  who  was  well  Known  in  America,  he 
spent  some  time  in  Munich  with  Mr.  Frank  Cramer,  one  of 
his  Yale  classmates.  In  July,  on  a  tramp  through  the  Tyrol, 
he  wrote : — 

"These  days  have  not  gone  by,  without  bringing  up  the 
wedding  and  the  graduation,  with  the  month  at  Orford.  And 
then  comes  the  parting,  on  April  loth,  and  my  last  glimpse 
of  Ress,  with  you  on  the  wharf,  as  I  was  slowly  borne  away. 
Ah !  God  only  knows  what  further  changes  may  come,  but 
with  Him  I  am  content  to  leave  all." 

His  tramp  among  the  Tyrolese  was  full  of  interest,  and 
brought  him  fresh  vigor. 

Meran,  Schnalserthal,  July  26th,  1869. 

Unsere  Liebe  Frau. 
How  certainly  does  one  find  evils  in  every  situation  in  life! 
Here  are  these  Tyrolese,  simple,  with  few  wants,  very  pious, 
obedient  to  the  priest,  going  regularly  to  church  and  repeating 
their  prayers,  making  pilgrimages  to  the  chapels  on  high  peaks, 
having  many  homely  virtues  and  few  vices,  yel  with  no  actual  be- 
lief, only  a  superstitious  reliance  on  the  priest,  without  any  real 
knowledge  of  God,  and  no  desire  for  any  thing  better.  They  are 
the  same  now  that  they  were  a  hundred  years  ago.  Bring  in  the 
railroad  and  modern  civilization,  and  you  bring  education,  free- 
dom of  thought,  aspirations  for  something  higher,  and  the  ground 
for  a  truer  belief.  But  you  also  bring  in  selfishness,  avarice,  strong 
drink,  and  all  the  vices  of  the  city.  Simplicity  goes,  and  polish 
takes  its  place — the  polish  of  steel  which  is  hard  as  flint.  In  a 
rude  state,  men  walk  over  grassy  paths,  winding  by  cool  brooks; 
in  a  civilized  state,  hard,  firm,  direct.  In  one  case  they  bow  Hke 
slaves  before  the  priest;  in  the  other,  they  stand  upright. 

On  his  return  to  Munich,  he  writes  :  "We  have  fallen  in- 
to the  custom  of  taking  a  very  simple  luncheon  instead  of 
dinner.  About  twelve  o'clock  we  go  into  a  nice  little  court 
and  enter  a  mjlk  shop,  where,  in  the  back  room,  our  clear, 
sweet-faced  milk-frau  brings  us  glasses  of  milk  with  bread 
and  cottage  cheese,  and  sometimes  steaming  potatoes.  We 
pay  six  kreutzers  and  come  away  satisfied.  It  is  far  better 
in  this  warm  weather  than  meat  would  be." 

In  Edward's  country  home  he  had  been  brought  up  an  ab- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


71 


stainer  from  all  intoxicating  drinks.  And  on  entering  Yale, 
he  had  taken  a  pledge  for  his  college  course.  But  at  that 
time  there  was  less  consideration  given  to  the  details  of  the 
temperance  question.  In  Munich  he  wrote  that  he  drank  no 
water,  as  it  was  full  of  chalk  and  very  unhealthy.  Thus  in 
the  matter  of  beer  and  light  wines  he  easily  fell  into  the  hab- 
its of  his  associates  and  the  professors  he  knew.  But  on  the 
tobacco  question  he  was  decided,  and  notwithstanding  the 
constant  temptations,  he  never  yielded,  even  although  a  sur- 
render would  have  enabled  him  to  enjoy  many  discussions 
from  which  the  nicotine  atmosphere  drove  him  away.  As  to 
the  temperance  question,  on  his  return  to  America,  and  care- 
fully studying  it,  he  became  a  hearty  believer  in  total  absti- 
nence and  a  zealous  worker  in  the  cause. 

Aug.  8th,  1869. 

When  I  know  so  much  that  I  do  not  need  advice  from  father,  I  will 
come  straight  home  and  get  a  professorship  in  Self-Conceit.  I 
have  so  often  learned  by  experience  the  wisdom  of  his  counsel, 
that  I  cannot  but  have  the  utmost  regard  for  it.  .  .  In  all 
things,  whether  I  am  walking  or  reading,  seeing  paintings  or 
people,  I  endeavor  to  keep  in  view  the  great  fact  that,  by  the  help 
of  God,  I  am  to  influence  men.  A  knowledge  of  the  history  of 
art  unites  itself,  practically,  with  the  history  of  the  church.  Study- 
ing the  effect  of  the  different  customs  and  beliefs  upon  the  paint- 
ings and  buildings  of  a  people,  gives  me  many  a  clew  to  the 
mysteries  of  human  nature.  Seeing  the  paintings  themselves  is 
much  more  practical  than  reading  of  them  from  books,  though  the 
two  should  be  united.  Now  is  my  opportunity  to  do  both,  and  I 
have  made  a  beginning.  It  is  not  self-culture  that  I  seek,  still  less 
the  pleasure  derived  from  seeing  and  hearing  the  beautiful,  but 
strength  and  knowledge  for  my  work.  For  whether  I  have  fol- 
lowed the  strong,  bold  sweep  of  nature's  pencil,  or  that  of  her 
imitator,  man,  I  have  found  something  new,  something  that  I  hope 
will  help  me  to  reach  men's  hearts. 

From  Munich,  Edward  went  to  Vienna,  and  thence  to 
Leipzig. 

Dorothea  Strasse,  October,  1869. 
A  strange  feeling  of  sadness  comes  over  me,-  dear  mother,  in 
this  German  home  of  my  sister.  Miss  French,  who  knew  her,  is 
directly  opposite  me,  and,  as  I  hear  her  playing,  I  think  of  Meta 
as  studying  here  quietly,  and  then  dreaming  sweet  dreams— so 
soon  ended.  I  have  met  several  of  her  friends,  and  among  them, 
Mr.   and  Mrs.   Thallon   and  family— Scotch   people  residing  in 


72     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Leipzig,  of  whom  I  see  much.  One  day  I  took  a  walk  with  Miss 
Johnson  out  to  Gohlis,  and  saw  Schiller's  house,  where  he  wrote 
the  Hymn  of  Praise.  It  is  a  queer  little  cottage,  and  is  kept  just 
as  it  was.  I  went  down,  the  other  night,  into  Auerbach's  wine- 
cellar,  which  was  frequented  by  Goethe,  and  where,  according 
to  tradition,  he  wrote  parts  of  Faust.  At  any  rate,  the  walls  are 
adorned  with  illustrations  of  various  scenes  from  Goethe.  En- 
closed is  the  ivy  from  Gluck's  grave,  which  please  send  with  the 
others  to  Miss  Charlotte  Kimball,  thanking  her  for  her  note, 
which  I  will  answer  soon. 

Oct.  7th. 

Yesterday,  I  handed  my  sister's  card  to  Baron  Tauchnitz,  who 
gave  me  a  ticket  to  a  concert  at  the  Gewandhaus,  commencing  at 
half-past  five.  The  concert  was  superb.  There  is  no  such  music 
in  the  world  as  here.  I  saw  Richter  in  the  audience,  and  Moschele.s, 
and  Gilmore  from  Boston. 

The  Baron  thinks  I  ought  to  remain  in  Leipzig,  and  Mr. 
Thallon  and  others  join  him.  But  I  should  speak  less  German 
here,  and  can  do  more  solid  work  in  a  quiet  city.  So  I  adhere  to 
my  decision  to  go  to  Halle,  for  the  first  year  at  least. 

At  the  time  arranged  Edward  carried  out  his  plan,  and 
found  a  delightful  home  in  the  family  of  Prof.  Jacobi,  occu- 
pying the  room  where  Prof.  Mead  had  resided  some  years 
before.  In  such  a  family,  he  felt  that  he  would  make  more 
rapid  progress  in  German,  and  would  also  have  more  fre- 
quent intercourse  with  the  professors. 

Halle,  Weidesplan,  2.  C.  Bei  Prof.  Jacobi.  Oct.  19th,  1869. 
.  .  .  To-day,  I  have  been  making  calls  on  the  professors, 
with  all  of  whom  I  was  pleased.  Prof.  Tholuck  was  walking  in 
his  garden  when  I  found  him,  and  simply  gave  him  my  card.  He 
walked  back  and  forth  with  me,  talking  of  many  subjects,  and 
among  them  of  the  Americans  that  he  knew.  When  I  left,  he 
asked  me  to  join  him  in  his  walk,  next  Thursday,  I  came  away 
greatly  charmed. 

Oct.  20th,  1869. 

I  ain  now  a  fully  matriculated  student  in  a  German  University. 
This  afternoon,  the  process  began,  at  a  quarter  of  four,  and  two 
hours  and  a  half  were  required  to  matriculate  about  fifty.  Assem- 
bling at  a  room  in  the  University  we  all  gave  in  our  certificates, 
(seugniss).  Then  we  were  taken  into  another  room,  called  up 
alphabetically,  and  made  to  sign  several  documents,  giving  full 
particulars  as  to  ourselves,  ancestors,  age,  position,  country,  etc. 
After  paying  five  thalers,  seven  and  a  half  groschen,  and  showing 
the  directors  how  to  write  Marblehead,  and  writing  Yale  myself, 
I  got  out.  There  was  still  the  verpflichtung,  but  I  was  out  so 
long  that,  without  intending  it,  I  missed  that,  and  when  the  porter 


LINDEN  HOME. 

Taken  by  Edzvard  himself. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


73 


showed  me  the  room  into  which  they  went,  I  had  simply  to  re- 
ceive my  papers,  shake  hands  with  the  rector,  and  pass  out.  And 
a  heap  of  papers  I  carried  with  me. 

Oct.  22d. 

I  had  a  very  interesting  walk  with  Tholuck  of  two  hours.  He 
is  not  only  a  teacher,  but  a  father  to  his  pupils,  one  whom  I  can 
love  as  well  as  respect.  .  .  I  am  much  pleased  to  see  the 
affection  between  the  students  and  professors.  Each  professor  has 
a  certain  hour,  every  day  of  the  week,  when  the  students  are  at 
liberty  to  call.  The  notice  of  the  hour  is  posted  in  the  University, 
and  on  Prof.  Schlottmann's  door  is  a  request  that  all  will  enter 
without  ringing.  Then  they  are  always  invited  to  the  Student 
Unions,  when  there  is  any  celebration.  And  the  professors  lose 
none  of  their  dignity  by  becoming  their  companions  as  well  as 
their  teachers. 

Halle,  Oct,  27th,  1869. 
Prof.  Schlottman  uttered  a  true  thought  yesterday,  when  he  said, 
in  reference  to  Spinoza's  attacks  on  the  authenticity  of  the  Penta- 
teuch that  we  ought  not,  on  that  account,  to  reject  his  conjectures 
as  to  its  origin,  for  God  often  makes  use  of  opposers,  to  further 
the  cause  of  Christ,  and  those  who  are  farthest  from  the  right 
may  yet  present  a  truth  of  which  his  followers  are 
ignorant.  There  is  a  tendency  in  human  nature  to  act  con- 
trary to  this.  For,  in  showing  that  the  final  conclusion  of  our 
adversary  is  wrong,  we  feel  that  his  arguments  are  the  spoila 
opima,  and  that  we  can  carry  them  all  off  to  our  own  camp.  And 
so  they  are,  but  not  to  be  converted  to  any  use  we  may  fancy. 
The  gold  is  still  gold,  the  silver,  silver,  and  he  would  be  an  un- 
wise conqueror  who  should  cast  treasures  into  the  desert,  and  level 
the  walls  of  the  commanding  fortress  which  has  been  delivered 
up  to  him.  Spinoza  says  Moses  did  not  write  the  Pentateuch, 
but  Spinoza  is  no  believer  in  Revelation,  therefore  his  opinion 
has  no  weight.  Perhaps  not,  but  consider.  A  greater  victory 
than  that  of  disproving  all  his  arguments  is  that  of  defeating  his 
main  point,  and  then  turning  his  weapons  to  our  use.  It  is  always 
of  infinitely  more  importance  that  we  should  be  right  than  that  we 
should  be  victorious.  In  the  last  generation  the  church  committed 
the  same  error,  when,  because  science  threatened  religion,  she 
rejected  science.  She  has  since  learned  to  use  science  to  defend 
what  she  supposed  it  would  attack.  Where  reason  attacked  religion, 
she  declares  that  reason  came  not  within  its  province.  She  is  now 
learning  where  reason  ends,  and  how  to  use  it  in  her  cause. 

Prof.  Erdmann's  lectures  on  the  History  of  Philosophy  are  in- 
tensely interesting.  He  is  a  thorough  Hegelian.  In  answer  to  the 
objection  that  philosophers  disavowed  the  philosophy  which  fol- 
lowed theirs,  he  asserted,  what  I  believe  to  be  true,  that  poster- 
ity always  understands  a  philosopher  or  poet  better  than  he  does 
himself,  and  can  directly  draw  consequences  from  his  system 
which  he  himself  would  deny.    Fichte,  who  was  deeply  grieved 


74     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


because  Kant  attacked  him  for  drawing  the  legitimate  conclu- 
sions from  the  philosophy  of  the  former,  lived  to  see  the  philosophy 
he  had  thus  unfolded,  further  developed  by  Hegel,  and  in  his  turn, 
became  the  assailant. 

Oct.  29th. 

The  German  students  are  not  aesthetic,  practically.  Perhaps, 
their  learning  swallows  up  ordinary  matters.  But  if  they  could 
spare  a  little  time  from  their  conjugations,  or  from  their  all-en- 
grossing kneips  to  read  a  treatise  on  Etiquette — (I  should  like  to 
translate  one  into  Greek,  in  which  case  they  would  read  it,)  they 
would  learn  something  as  to  the  proper  use  of  knives  and  forks, 
the  way  of  taking  soups  and  other  liquids,  and  the  use  of  tooth- 
picks at  the  table! 

After  giving  an  account  of  his  various  recitations  and  of 
his  teachers,  he  says : — 

Nov.  5th,  1869. 

I  have  never  studied  under  a  professor  as  deep  as  Prof.  Muller, 
nor  with  one  as  loving  as  Prof.  Tholuck.  Great  as  are  his  learn- 
ing and  influence,  they  yield  to  his  love.  For  every  one  of  the 
students  under  his  charge  I  believe  he  has  a  strong  and  discrimin- 
ating affection.  That  alone  could  have  enabled  him,  after  fifty 
years,  to  delight  in  imparting  information  for  the  one  and  fiftieth 
time. 

In  common  with  many  others,  Edward's  parents  had  met 
with  great  financial  losses.  Then,  as  they  had  difficulty  in 
renting  for  any  length  of  time  a  comfortable  home,  they  had 
improved  a  rare  opportunity  to  secure  one  of  the  old  colonial 
mansions  at  Marblehead,  an  outlay  which  greatly  crippled 
their  resources.  On  learning  this,  in  order  to  lessen  his  ex- 
penses, Edward  gave  up  his  pleasant  home  at  Prof.  Jacobi's. 
"You  would  smile,"  he  writes,  "to  see  my  present  frugal  way 
of  living.  1  take  a  cup  of  coffee  in  the  morning  in  my  room, 
with  a  couple  of  rolls  without  butter ;  take  a  very  simple  din- 
ner at  noon,  and  sup  luxuriously  on  black  bread  and  butter, 
which  I  keep  in  my  room.  I  often  imagine  you  at  work,  fit- 
ting up  the  new  home.  As  to  the  great  linden  trees,  which 
neighbors  advise  you  to  cut  down,  I  say,  'Woodman,  spare 
the  axe  and  take  the  knife.'  I  think  'Linden  Home'  would 
be  an  appropriate  name," — a  name  which  was  at  once 
adopted. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


15 


The  terrible  blow  which  had  fallen  so  suddenly  on  Ed- 
ward's sister  had  broken  her  down.  For  the  sake  of  her  lit- 
tle one,  she  made  every  effort  to  rally,  and  was  taken  for  a 
change  to  the  seaside  home  at  Marblehead.  But  her  friends 
hoped  against  hope,  and  they  were  at  last  obliged  to  send  to 
her  brother  the  sad  tidings  that  she  was  apparently  sinking 
into  a  decline.   In  reply,  he  says  : — 

Halle,  November,  1869. 
I  know  not  what  to  think,  still  less  what  to  write,  dear  mother. 
A  cloud  seems  to  rest  over  my  home,  and  the  knowledge  of  what 
you  are  suffering,  with  forebodings  of  what  may  happen,  make 
me  very  sad.  Dear  Meta !  Must  it  be  so?  Cannot  the  disease  be 
thrown  off? 

Halle,  Jan.  23rd,  1870. 
Your  sad  letter,  dear  mother,  was  delayed,  or  I  should  have 
written  sooner.  I  know  not  what  to  say.  I  lost  one  sister  before 
I  was  old  enough  to  know  her.  Shall  I  lose  her  now  whom  I 
love  so  much?  Yet  I  do  not  wish  to  be  selfish,  and  God  gives 
me  strength  to  say,  "Thy  will  be  done."  She  longs  for  that  other 
world,  and  there  will  lay  down  those  griefs  which  have  weighed 
so  heavily  upon  her  life.  What  is  loss  for  us  is  infinite  gain  for 
her.  Shall  we  grudge  it?  For  yourself,  dear  mother,  do  not 
mourn  too  bitterly,  if  the  blow  comes. 

By  the  same  mail,  he  wrote  his  sister: — 

My  Darling  Sister:— 

I  can  write  but  little,  for  my  heart  is  full, 
and  these   words  may   come   too  late.    But   beyond   this  world 
stretches  out  an  eternity,  where  we  shall  know  each  other  in  the 
clear  light  of  God's  love.     We  part  but  for  a  few  years.  And 
though  It  is  a  bitter  grief  that   I  can  say  no  word  by  your  side 
before  you  go,  I  can  bear  it  all.    But,  my  love,  if  you  are  yet 
here,  will  you,  while  thus  near  to  Christ,  breathe  a  prayer  for  me 
not  that  my  life  may  be  long  or  happy,  but  that  it  may  be  Christ's' 
and  that  He  may  make  it  a  great  power  in   his  church 
Must  I  say  good-bye  then?   It  is  very  hard.    But  what   a  meet- 
ing when  we  are  all  together  in  the  other  world!   This  one  has  not 
much  to  offer,  save  work  for  others. 
May  God  help  us  all,  my  sweet  sister! 

Your  loving,  loving  brother, 

Ned. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  that  these  letters  were 
mailed,  he  writes : — 


I  have  just  received  your  letter  from  Brooklyn,  and  h 


ave  now 


76     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


finished  reading  it  the  second  time.  The  first  time  I  was  so  blinded 
that  I  could  scarcely  see.  It  must  always  be  so.  Our  feelings 
must  have  play  before  we  can  receive  such  things  in  submission. 
I  opened  my  Bible,  and  the  first  passage  my  eye  lighted  on  was 
the  last  six  verses  of  the  34th  Psalm.  Read  them,  mother.  But, 
though  my  eyes  swim,  and  my  throat  chokes,  I  would  not  change 
anything  that  I  have  written.  As  I  pace  my  room  to  and 
fro,  I  feel  that  Christ  helps  me.  My  thoughts  turn  from  that  sick 
bed  and  my  suflfering  sister  to  that  Saviour  who  is  supporting  her, 
and  I  feel  a  burning  desire  to  preach  him  to  all.  Oh!  that  he  may 
help  me  to  save  souls!  By  that  strange  providence,  through  which 
God  mingles  comfort  with  sorrow,  there  came  to  me  at  the  same 
time  as  your  letter,  a  note  from  a  friend  in  Leipzig,  referring  to 
a  few  words  I  said  to  her  on  that  Sabbath  evening  when  I 
preached  there.  She  writes: — "I  want  to  thank  you  very,  very 
much  for  your  kinds  words  of  sympathy  on  that  evening,  which 
I  shall  always  remember.  I  assure  you,  those  words  have  helped 
me  much,  so  that  even  now  I  can  see  that  out  of  the  darkness 
cometh  light."  I  cannot  now  write  more,  but  "Forsan  et  haec  olim 
meminisse  juvabit."  I  pray  God  for  power  to  read,  understand 
and  reach  the  hearts  of  others.  While  I  can  do  that,  let  me  live; 
when  I  cannot,  let  me  die,  and  join  my  dear  friends  in  serving 
Christ  in  the  temple  not  made  with  hands.  Perhaps,  even  now, 
dear  Meta  is  with  him.  Do  not  grieve  on  my  account,  dear 
mother.  I  assure  you  that,  except  in  moments  of  sudden  grief 
and  longing,  I  am  happy  in  yielding  to  the  will  of  God,  glad  to 
give  him  what  he  calls  tor. 

The  following  is  copied  from  the  magazine  where  it  ap- 
peared : — 

Many  of  the  readers  of  Hours  at  Home,  who  are  familiar  with 
the  name  upon  past  title  pages  of  Claude  Iris,  will  learn  now  for 
the  first  time  that  this  was  the  nom  de  plume  of  Margaret  Law- 
rence Pray,  one  of  the  victims,  real,  though  remote,  of  that  ter- 
rible disaster  on  the  Long  Island  Railroad,  April  23d,  1869.  Her 
husband,  Dr.  Orestes  M.  Pray,  of  Brooklyn,  his  mother  and  uncle, 
were  instantly  killed  in  the  horrible  crash.  The  news  carried  to 
her  sick  bed  only  a  week  after  the  birth  of  their  first-born,  was  a 
shock  too  great.  From  its  effects  she  never  recovered,  and  peace- 
fully she  passed  away,  on  the  nth  of  January  last.  Mrs.  Pray 
was  the  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Edward  A.  Lawrence,  and  grand- 
daughter of  the  late  Dr.  Leonard  Woods,  of  Andover  Seminary, 
one  of  the  fathers  of  New  England  theology.  Meta,  as  she  was 
called,  and  her  destined  husband  met  in  Germany,  where  he  was 
pursuing  his  professional  studies,  and  she  had  gone  to  perfect 
her  musical  education.  From  early  childhood,  she  was  mature 
beyond  her  age,  particularly  in  her  poetic  gifts.  The  poem 
"Memory  Bells,"  published  in  this  magazine,  in  that  fatal  April  of 
1869,  was  written  at  the  age  of  fourteen.  Those  who  loved  her 
have  this  added  to  their  sorrow — the  deep  regret  that  so  rare  a 
blossom  should  have  fallen  before  its  promised  golden  fruitage. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


11 


Yet  like  a  voice  from  beyond  the  grave  come  her  own  sweet 
verses — and  "God  knows." 

ASLEEP  AND  AWAKE. 

Hush,  she  sleeps,  the  maiden  Alice; — 
Slow  has  come  the  dim,  blue  dawning, 
And  the  rosy  wine  of  morning 

Fills  the  Daylight's  golden  chalice. 

But  it  brings  no  sudden  waking 

To  that  restful,  happy  sleeper. 

Ah!  what  blessed  dream  can  keep  her 
While  with  life  the  air  is  shaking? 

Pale  she  lies  and  very  quiet; 

Though  the  flowers  are  in  the  garden 

Gem-bedewed,  their  little  warden 
Lets  the  bees  among  them  riot. 

Blessed  dreams  indeed  have  won  her. 

Shut  the  door,  and  look  thee  slowly 

On  the  face  so  fair  and  holy, — 
Heavenly  peace  hath  gleamed  upon  her. 

Kneel  beside  her;  smooth  her  tresses; 
Call  her  low,  with  utterance  tender. 
Sweetest  names  that  love  can  lend  her; 

Touch  her  lips  with  softest  kisses. 

Yet  thy  words  bring  no  unclosing 

Of  those  eyes  that  yester  even, 

Shone  upon  thee  blue  as  heaven. 
Ne'er  she'll  wake  from  that  reposing. 

Alice!  Alice!  darling  Alice! 

Life  to  thee  was  full  of  glory. 

Glittering — as  in  ancient  story 
Of  some  charmed,  fairy  palace. 

I  am  tired  and  disenchanted. 

Thou  wert  younger,  fairer,  stronger; 

Alice!  live  a  little  longer! 
Pluck  the  flowers  thy  hopes  have  planted. 

Ah!  that  I,  instead,  were  lying 

On  thy  couch,  its  silence  greeting, — 
Hushed  my  restless  heart's  dull  beating. 

All  forgotten  tears  and  sighing. 

For  God  knows,  my  little  maiden — 

Only  He — how  very  weary 

Are  my  feet,  and  sad  and  dreary 
Is  this  soul  with  pain  o'erladen. 


78     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Yes,  God  knows!  and  maiden  Alice, 

Sends  to  thee  his  blessed  slumber. 

I  the  bitterest  drops  must  number, 
One  by  one  of  life's  sad  chalice. 

Well,  what  matter?  since  the  morning 

Breaks  for  all,  and  softly  blending 

Shade  and  sunlight,  all  are  ending 
In  one  Paradisal  dawning. 

So  I  leave  thee,  Alice,  sleeping. 
Tears,  but  not  of  wild  repining, 
In  my  eyes  are  tremulous  shining, — 
Rainbowed  mists  before  them  creeping. 

Though  thy  rest  so  calm  and  still  is. 

Balmy  airs  from  heaven  are  straying, 

And  the  angel  Peace  is  laying 
On  my  head  her  whitest  lilies. 

Halle,  Feb.  6th,  1870. 
From  Miss  Kirby's  letter  to  INIrs.  Thallon,  I  learned  how  bright 
was  Meta's  departure,  how  sweetly  she  passed  into  the  other 
world.  And  with  it  her  life  is  now  begun.  For  the  first  time 
she  lives.  Is  this  Life,  so  full  of  darkness,  misery,  woe?  Can  it  be 
more  than  the  shadow  of  death,  out  of  which  we  pass  into  the 
light  and  reality  of  life?  I  would  willingly  lay  down  my  own  life  at 
this  moment,  did  I  not  know  there  is  work  to  be  done,  and  that 
it  would  bring  sorrow  to  the  hearts  of  a  few,  even  as  this  loss 
brings  sorrow  to  my  heart  because, 

"He  hath  put  our  lives  so  far  apart 
We  cannot  hear  each  other  speak." 

But  I  sorrow  most  in  thinking  of  the  dear  mother  and  her 
griefs.  When  I  think  of  you  two,  alone  in  the  great  house,  I  am 
very  sad.  It  seems  as  if  I  ought  to  be  with  you.  I  want  to  do 
what  is  right,  neither  yielding  duty  to  my  feelings,  nor  letting 
other  duties  turn  me  from  my  filial  ones.  Can  you  look  through 
the  years,  mother,  to  the  time  when  those  of  us  who  are  left  can 
be  together,  and  then  to  the  still  better  time  when  we  shall  all 
be  united  in  heaven? 

Do  you  know,  dear  mother,  how  completely  I  seem  to  lead  two 
lives?  I  cannot  put  on  the  outward  marks  of  sorrow,  bearing  about 
to  the  world  a  sign  that  I  have  suffered!  Nor  can  I  admit  the  gen- 
erality to  come  in  where  I  stand.  The  outward  life,  in  a  sense, 
seems  unchanged.  But  when  I  turn  within,  the  sense  of  my  loss 
and  of  your  and  father's  suffering  alone,  sends  pangs  to  my  heart. 
Yet  there  is  no  insincerity  in  my  ordinary  demeanor;  it  seems 
rather  as  if  there  were  two  sides  to  my  personality,  and  perhaps  it 
is  well  that  it  is  so.  Self-control  I  hold  to  be  one  of  the  most 
necessary  powers,  if  we  would  control  others.  But  what  is  it? 
Not  an  extinction,  or  crushing  out  of  our  feelings,  whether  of 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


79 


love  or  sorrow,  but  rather  a  power  in  reserve,  to  be  used,  when 
these  would  turn  our  actions  out  of  their  proper  channels.  Well, 
good  night,  dear  mother,  and  may  God  be  with  you  and  father  and 
Anna,  with  a  kiss  to  her. 

It  was  early  in  February  that,  in  skating,  Edward  fell  on 
the  ice  and  struck  his  left  skate  into  his  right  foot,  inflicting 
an  injury  which  confined  him  two  weeks. 

"One  day,"  he  writes,  "I  heard  some  one  below,  slowly 
picking  his  way  through  the  rickety  passages  of  my  rickety 
boarding  house.  A  feeble  step  mounts  the  stairs,  the  door  is 
pushed  open,  and  that  dear  old  man  comes  toward  me, 
breathless,  supported  by  a  friend,  but  with  a  sweet,  deep 
smile  which  made  that  battered,  homely  face  beautiful,  and 
lit  up  my  narrow  room  with  a  flood  of  sunshine.  He  had 
been  anxious  ;  wanted  to  see  me ;  wished  to  know  if  I  was 
gaining ;  hoped  I  should  soon  be  about  again.  I  replied  that 
I  had  no  doubt  the  accident  was  all  for  the  best.  'Ah !  but, 
Herr  Lawrence,  that  depends.  To  whom  are  things  for  the 
best?  All  things  work  together  for  good — to  them  that  love 
God.  So,  unless  we  love  God,  they  may  not  be  at  all  for  our 
good.'  That  lesson  from  dear  Tholuck  I  think  I  shall  re- 
member." 

Wittenberg,  March  20th,  1870. 

I  must  write  from  this  old  city,  the  home  of  Luther  and 
Melancthon,  and  of  Lucas  Cranach,  the  painter  of  the  University 
now  in  Halle.  I  walk  about  these  old  streets  like  one  in  a  dream, 
and  seem  to  see  those  grand  heroes  before  me.  Here  is  the  cloister 
where  Luther  studied.  I  sat  at  the  table  where  he  wrote.  Here  he 
pondered  over  that  great  step  whose  magnitude  even  he  could  not 
anticipate.  I  imagine  his  return  from  Rome,  disgusted  with  what 
he  had  seen.  I  see  the  people  thronging  about  him,  as.  under  the 
oak  outside  the  city,  he  burns  the  Pope's  bull.  This  lesson  should 
every  one  learn  from  him,  that  there  are  to  be  years  of  quiet,  pa- 
tient, unseen  labor.  One  must  toil  in  silence,  and  when  the  time 
is  ripe,  the  fruit  will  come.  Then  one  can  say, — "Hier  steh  ich,  ich 
kann  nicht  anders." 

Above  the  doors  of  many  of  the  houses,  are  pithy  sentences, 
of  which  I  give  a  specimen : — "1st  des  Papst  und  Calvini  Gift." 
Calvini  is  in  large  letters,  as  if  calling  for  special  attention.  Then 
follows  a  notice  that  this  stone  was  repaired,  and  the  house  built 
in  1777. 

Halle,  May  loth. 
What  a  delicious  feeling  this  budding  spring  brings  with  it!  The 


8o     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


tender  green,  the  fragrant  atmosphere,  the  life  breaking  forth 
everywhere,  triumphing  over  the  power  of  death,  which  has  been 
striving  to  hold  her  fast  in  bands  of  ice.  The  warm  flow  of  health 
runs  through  all  nature,  which  luxuriates  in  her  strength  and 
floods  the  earth  with  beauty.  What  a  warm,  loving,  tenderly  beat- 
ing heart  she  has!  How  delicate  are  her  gifts!  How  wonderful- 
ly does  she  please  the  eye! — each  leaf  a  world  and  a  million  of 
worlds!  See  the  cold,  bleak  trees  open  their  eyes  and  clothe 
themselves  in  their  sweet  robes  of  leaves,  and  then  flutter  with  joy 
at  the  first  touch  of  the  sun!  How  the  buds  come  out,  slowly  and 
bashfully  at  first,  and  then  gaining  courage  unfold  and  drink  in 
the  warmth  of  the  sun!  And  how  the  breezes  caress  these  new 
visitors!  The  same  wind  which  a  few  months  later,  will  dash  in 
fury  against  them,  driving  them  from  the  trees  and  whirling  them 
about  in  eddies  of  rage,  now  kisses  them,  whispering  sweet  words 
of  promise.  There  come  to  me  dear  ]\Ieta's  words, — oh,  how 
strangely! 

The  Spring  of  the  year,  the  spring  of  the  heart, 
And  one  will  never  depart. 

Ah,  she  is  now  where  there  is  no  winter  and  no  night.  If  we 
had  a. ways  lived  in  winter,  how  impossible  wouUl  it  be  for  us  to 
picture  the  early  spring;  or  if  in  night,  to  understand  the  glory  of 
a  rising  and  risen  sun!  And  here  we  are  in  the  winter,  and  here  in 
the  night.   What  a  spring!  what  a  dawning  are  yet  to  come! 

In  one  sense,  I  love  the  world  more  every  year.  The  face  of 
nature  grows  dearer  to  me  day  by  day.  There  is  not  a  phase  of 
it  in  which  I  do  not  find  something  beautiful.  But  when  I  can 
sit,  as  now,  and  look  up  into  the  clear,  blue  depths  on  which  sail 
the  snowy  cloud  masses,  pinnacled  and  domed  and  alive,  it  seems 
one  delicious  poem,  one  grand  hymn,  which  all  mortals  could 
hear  if  their  ears  were  not  closed.  The  sights  of  last  summer,  the 
grand  mountains  and  glaciers,  give  me  more  pleasure  now  than 
even  when  I  lived  among  them.   They  seem  actua'lv  to  speuk  to  me. 

These  beautiful  May  days  take  me  back  to  that  20th  of  May— 
your  silver  wedding,  six  years  ago — when  there  was  hardly  a  cloud 
in  the  sky.  What  delightful  days  those  were!  It  seems  like  a 
dream,  that  I  took  part  in  them.  And  I  cannot,  cannot  mike  my- 
self realize  that,  when  I  land  again  in  Am<"rica,  I  shall  rot  see 
Iter.  -Sometimes  I  am  asked  if  I  have  brothers  and  sisters  at  home, 
and  as  I  attempt  to  answer  such  a  pain  comes  over  me  that  I  can 
hardly  speak. 

Prof,  and  Mrs.  Tholuck  have  invited  me  to  dine  at  their  house 
three  times  a  week.  And  not  long  since  I  passed  a  very  pleasant 
cvenmg  with  them.  The  Professor,  at  my  request,  described  the 
effect  produced  upon  particular  men  at  the  appearance  of  Strauss' 
_  Life  of  Jesus."  Prof.  Wegschneider,  a  sleepy  Rationalist,  read 
liv  remarked,  "Humph!  We  have  got  along  so  far  with 
Christianity,  and  I  guess  we  sha'n't  leave  it  for  Dr.  Strauss'  sake  " 
UJIman,  a  keen,  courteous  Evangelical,  laid  it  down  after  a  careful- 
perusal  with  the  words,  "Well !  it   can   be  answered,"  Gesenius 


MARGARET  LAWRENCE  PRAY. 

{Hdivard's  sister  Mcta.) 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


8i 


however,  rubbed  his  hands  with  pleasure, — "Ha,  this  is  capital! 
What  a  scandal  it  will  make!" 

Halle,  May  loth,  1870.  _ 
At  eleven,  I  joined  Prof.  Tholuck  in  his  garden  and  had  a  talk 
with  him  till  one  o'clock.  I  had  asked  him  to  give  me  bome  of  the 
ground  ideas  of  Strauss.  This  took  us  down  into  the  depths  of 
Hegel's  Philosophy,  and  over  quite  an  extensive  field.  In  our 
walk  a  few  days  before,  he  spoke  much  of  the  philosophy  of 
Schopenhauer,  who  holds  that  there  is  so  much  more  sorrow 
and  misfortune  in  life  than  pleasure,  that  if  we  were  not  fopls 
and  did  not  grossly  deceive  ourselves,  as  well  as  have  an  instinctive 
fear  of  death,  we  should  all  commit  suicide.  Our  imagined  happi- 
ness is  really  only  misery;  our  hopes  are  deceptions,  and  all  re- 
ligion an  uncertainty.  Tholuck  said  that  all  he  had  been  able  to 
accomplish  as  a  teacher,  often  seemed  trifling  and  fleeting;  but 
when  he  thought  of  Neander,  and  how  he  had  influenced  his  life, 
he  had  some  hope  for  his  own  influence.  He  finds  none  of  the 
English  philosophers  very  deep,  though  clear  and  practical. 
Locke,  he  does  not  place  high.  Hume  higher,  and  to  John  Stuart 
Mill  he  would  say  "Dig  deep."  Bentham  is  much  referred  to  in 
political  economy.  Coleridge  he  considers  the  deepest  of  Eng- 
lish philosophers  and  expressed  great  pleasure  in  Prof.  Marsh's 
Introduction  to  Aids  to  Reflection,  although  he  thinks  Coleridge 
got  many  of  his  modes  of  thinking  from  Germany.  The  Germans, 
he  says,  are  remarkably  dependent  on  England  for  fictitious 
literature. 

A  young  American  held  out  his  finger  to  me,  the  other  day, 
showing  me  a  ring,  the  sign  of  his  engagement  to  a  German 
young  lady.  He  thinks  German  wives  are  more  docile  and  easily 
managed  than  Americans.  How  many  select  a  wife  on  the  same 
principle  that  they  would  buy  a  hound!  Pretty  creature!  Thou 
must  be  good  and  obedient,  and  thy  hands  must  be  small,  and 
thine  eyes  bright,  and  thy  complexion  fair  and  features  regular,  and 
then  thou  shall  have  a  nice  little  kennel  and  a  handsome  collar 
and  good  clothes,  and  the  inexpressible  honor  of  taking  care  of 
my  noble  person!  It  will  cost  less  than  hiring  a  housekeeper, 
and  a  wife  can  never  strike  for  higher  wages.  The  worst  of  it  is 
that  so  many  accept  the  position  as  one  naturally  belonging  to 
them.  Man  gives  woman  the  name  of  the  better  half,  and  takes 
the  fact  to  himself.  He  calls  woman  an  angel  and  makes  her  a 
servant,  worships  the  idea  and  makes  the  fact  worship  him.  But 
I  suppose,  in  the  first  days  of  courtship,  this  is  hardly  thought  of. 

In  May,  Edward  moved  his  quarters  to  Frati  Cosack's, 
whose  husband  had  been  a  professor  in  the  University.  He 
there  became  acquainted  with  her  daughter  from  Magde- 
burg, the  wife  of  Herr  Hauptman  Kloer,  who  was  then  be- 
fore Paris  with  the  German  army.  As  Edward  was  obliged 
at  that  time  to  be  very  careful  of  his  eyes,  Frau  Kloer  read 


82      REMIMSCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


to  him,  and  was  a  help  in  other  ways.  He  formed  a  warm 
friendship  with  her,  and  through  her,  with  her  husband,  from 
whom  he  received  kind  messages  in  his  letters,  as  during  his 
absence  she  made  her  home  with  her  mother.  The  friend- 
ship of  the  trio,  which  brought  him  great  pleasure,  contin- 
ued through  his  life. 

Halle,  May  28th,  1870. 

Dear  Mother: — 

Prof.  Miiller  is  in  full  activity  and  tolerable  health. 
He  is  the  most  zealous  of  lecturers,  and  never  misses  an  hour 
without  good  cause.  He  has  just  published  a  volume  of  essays  on 
various  theological  subjects.  I  heard  him  on  dogmatic  theology,  last 
winter,  and  hear  him  now  on  the  Gospel  of  St.  John. 

I  had  a  pleasant  walk  with  Tholuck  day  before  yesterday. 
Speaking  of  my  Uncle  Leonard's  translation  of  Knapp's  Theology, 
he  told  me  something  of  Knapp,  who  was  his  predecessor  in  Halle. 
When  he  came  here  from  Berlin,  he  asked  Prof.  Knapp  how  many 
of  the  eight  or  nine  hundred  theological  students  who  heard  him 
were  sincere  Christians.  The  tears  came  into  Knapp's  eyes  as  he 
answered,  "Oh,  you  cannot  ask  that  here.  Everything  is  cold  and 
lifeless.  The  only  one  I  know  the  Moravians  sent  me.  But  these," 
said  he,  bringing  out  a  bundle  of  letters,  "these  are  my  consolation. 
They  are  from  students,  telling  me  how  they  have  been  led  to 
Christ  since  leaving  Halle." 

I  then  inquired  what  were  the  outward  influences  that  led  him 
to  take  such  a  different  position  from  all  those  about  him.  He 
gave  them  as  two.  The  first  was  Neander,  but  that  was  more 
preparatory.  Baron  Cottwiz  was  the  other.  He  had  always  been 
asking  himself  what  was  the  object  of  this  human  life.  It  was 
not  pleasure,  for  many  failed  of  that.  Not  learning  nor  science, 
for  but  few  could  obtain  these.  Baron  Cottwiz  took  him  into  his 
family  and  without  speaking  to  him  directly  on  religion,  showed 
him  an  actual  Christian  life  which  gave  itself  up  to  others.  The 
Baron  supported  about  five  thousand  poor  men  in  various  ways, 
yet  without  publicity.  He  went  incognito  through  the  world.' 
There  Tholuck  learned  that  to  live  for  others  was  the  highest 
aim.  And  he  could  say  that  his  life  had  been  one  of  self-denial 
He  left  Berlin,  where  he  had  hundreds  of  Christian  friends,  and  ac- 
cepted a  professorship  here,  where  he  must  stand  alone.  The  only 
active  Christians  he  knew  in  the  place  were  two  tradesmen.  One  of 
them  established  the  prayer-meeting  where  Miiller,  afterwards  of 
Bristol,  England,  and  one  of  his  first  students,  was  converted 
And  since  that  time,  the  change  has  been  truly  marvellous  not 
only  in  Halle  but  throughout  Germany. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  THOLUCK  JUBILEE. 

"Be  what  thou  seemest!  live  thy  creed! 

Hold  up  to  earth  the  torch  divine; 
Be  what  thou  prayest  to  be  made, 

Let  the  great  Master's  steps  be  thine." 

Next  Friday  comes  the  Pflinger  recess  of  ten.  days.  I  had  arranged 
to  visit  Thuringer  Wald,  but  have  concluded  to  make  a  foot  tour. 
Justus  Jacobi,  Ulrich  Cosack,  Waalrolt  and  myself  propose  to  start 
on  Tuesday  and  be  ten  days  on  foot.  We  go  through  the  Thuringer 
Wald,  coming  out  at  Eisenach  and  the  Wartburg,  and  then  take  the 
train  back,  visiting  Weimar  on  the  way.  The  only  difficulty  I  feared 
was  as  to  the  Sundays.  So  I  told  them  that  I  never  travelled  on 
Sunday,  but  if  they  chose  to  do  so,  I  would  overtake  them  on  Mon- 
day. They,  however,  would  not  hear  to  this,  so  that  it  was  agreed  to 
make  Sundays  days  of  rest. 

Early  on  June  5th  the  four  young  men  started  forth,  but 
on  account  of  the  rain,  took  the  cars  direct  for  Weimar. 

I  found  the  address  of  Frau  Presidenten  Rathgen,  the  daughter 
of  Niebuhr,  to  whom  I  had  a  letter  from  Pres.  Porter.  She  pro- 
posed a  walk,  and  under  her  guidance,  I  saw  a  good  part  of 
Weimar.  Goethe's  summer  house  and  garden  were  closed,  but 
we  found  a  weak  spot  in  the  hedge  and,  laughing  like  a  child, 
she  sprang  through  with  me,  only  bidding  me  look  out  for  a  dog. 
I  wanted  to  find  a  flower  to  send  home  to  my  mother.  She 
picked  some  honeysuckles,  and  asked  me  to  send  them  from  her, 
which  I  accordingly  do.  We  went  into  Goethe's  garden  and 
house  in  the  city,  so  I  saw  the  window  where  he  died,  calling 
out  at  the  last  moment,  "More  light,"  which  the  Germans  inter- 
pret metaphorically.  I  went  into  the  garden  where  he  used  to 
walk,  with  his  hands  behind  him,  thinking  and  composing.  I 
cannot  describe  the  feelings  that  came  over  me  in  the  home  of  that 
great  spirit.  The  grandeur  of  man,  his  possibilities  and  limita- 
tions, came  clearly  before  me.  What  is  Goethe  now?  Is  he 
without  God? 

From  Weimar,  they  went  to  Eisenach,  from  which  place 
he  writes : — 

Yesterday,  it  was  Goethe;  to-day,  Luther.    We  were  awakened 


84      REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


at  half-past  four  by  the  songs  of  the  boys.  The  old  chorals  rang 
out  beautifully  in  this  pleasant,  old.  narrowcd-streeted  city.  Ein  fcstc 
Burg  ist  uiiscrc  Gott.  From  a  certain  spot  at  Die  Iiohcn  Sonne 
one  gets  a  look  at  the  Wartburg,  five  miles  of?  through  an  open- 
ing in  the  trees — the  most  beautiful  and  remarkable  thing  I  have 
seen  in  this  journey,  seeming  like  a  lovely  picture  in  a  frame  of 
green. 

Halle,  July  7th,  1870. 
In  what  a  rebellious  state  one  must  live,  who  cannot  take  the 
world  as  it  comes!  The  hard,  old  world  grinds  away  and  brings 
us  down  to  the  stern  bread  and  butter  facts  of  life.  When  I  see 
those  around  me  pressing  on  for  some  new  bubble,  I  feel  as  if  I 
had  lived  for  ages.  But  the  next  minute,  I  am  pressing  on  too. 
Yet,  if  I  seek  unfindable  things,  I  do  it  all  the  time  with  a  half 
consciousness  that  it  will  never  be  found,  and  that  I  am  deceiving 
myself  with  the  feeling  that  I  will  take  what  I  can  get,  even  al- 
though the  ideal  never  can  exist.  It  may  seem  strange  that  I 
should  say  this,  when  I  have  so  many  and  such  good  friends.  But 
this  does  not  satisfy  me.  The  friendship  which  is  worthy  of  the 
name  seeks  the  greatest  possible  perfection  in  the  character  it  loves, 
loves  so  truly  indeed  that  it  cannot  be  deterred  by  the  oflfence  it 
might  give  in  pointing  out  a  fault.  Such  is  a  mother's  love.  Such 
is  your  love  and  father's  love,  but  I  cannot  expect  to  find  that  in 
the  form  of  friendship.  This  longing  for  what  we  cannot  find 
should  lead  us  to  Jesus  Christ  himself.  But  the  bonds  of  flesh  so 
bind  us  that  it  is  with  the  greatest  difficulty  we  rise  to  close  com- 
munion with  him.  How  gladly  would  I  free  myself  from  these 
clogs  ! 

During  these  anxious  months,  Edward  sent  accounts  as 
to  the  progress  of  the  war,  which  appeared  in  the  Christian 
Union  and  other  papers.  His  letters  home  also  gave  many 
particulars. 

Halle,  July  24th,  1870. 
The  horrible  war-giant  is  still  arming  himself,  and  when  he  once 
breaks  loose,  I  know  not  what  sights  this  world  may  see.  Every- 
body is  pressing  into  the  army.  The  young  men  who  have  never 
served  will  form  the  reserve,  and  occupy  the  fortresses.  Lectures 
are  thinly  attended,  most  of  the  students  being  already  in  the  ranks. 
Troops  go  through  on  the  railroad  by  thousands  each  day.  All 
regular  trains  are  stopped,  and  to  travel  is  almost  an  impossibility. 
Every  house  in  the  city  is  prepared  for  the  lodgment  of  soldiers. 
Frau  Prof.  Cosack  has  two  beds  ready,  which  may  be  demanded 
at  any  time,  for  those  on  their  way  to  the  Rhine.  Large  booths 
have  been  erected  at  the  station  where  refreshments  are  sold 
cheap  to  the  defenders  of  the  country.  The  enthusiasm  which 
prevails  everywhere  is  indescribable.  A  friend,  whose  husband  is 
a  lieutenant,  expresses  her  regret  that  he  must  remain  at  home 
to  take  charge  of  the  reserves.  She  would  gladly  send  him  into  the 
battlefield.   The  women  are  not  at  all  behind  in  their  zeal  for  work. 


OP  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


85 


They  are  making  preparation  for  the  hospitals  and  inspiring  all 
hands  to  join  them. 

I  hear  from  every  quarter  expressions  of  the  greatest  pleasure 
for  the  sympathy  which  America  gives,  for  the  protection  of  our 
embassy  offered  to  Germans  in  Paris,  for  the  sums  of  money  sent 
from  Germans  in  the  West,  and  for  the  tone  of  the  newspapers. 
Tholuck  speaks  of  the  friendship  between  the  two  countries  as  a 
kind  of  gcmuthlichkcit,  arising  partly,  on  this  side,  perhaps,  from 
some  secret  leanings  towards  republicanism.  The  mails  as  yet  re- 
main undisturbed,  though  letters  should  be  sent  via  England. 

In  his  summer  vacation  Edward  gladly  accepted  an  invi- 
tation from  Prof,  and  Frau  Rathin  Tholuck  to  pass  a  few 
weeks  with  them  at  Suderoda,  in  the  Harz  Mountains.  He 
writes : — 

Suderoda,  Aug.  19th,  1870. 

I  have  been  here  two  weeks,  but  can  hardly  realize  it,  the  time 
flies  so  fast.  Our  company  is  increased  by  the  presence  of  Gen- 
eral Superintendent  Niemann,  from  Hannover,  the  office  being 
something  like  that  of  a  bishop,  and  also  by  that  of  Prof.  Dorner. 
The  other  day,  we  all  received  from  the  Graf  and  Grafin  Harrach 
an  invitation  to  a  rendezvous  at  one  of  the  beautiful  spots  in  the 
Harz  Mountains,  seven  or  eight  miles  from  here — the  Magdesprung 
where  two  foot  tracks  are  formed  in  the  rocks  at  the  edge  of  a 
precipice.  The  story  is  that  a  maiden  leaped  over  here  to  escape 
from  a  pursuing  hunter. 

Profs.  Tholuck  and  Dorner,  General  Superintendent  Niemann, 
Herr  Besser  and  I  walked  there  through  beautiful  thick  pine  for- 
ests. When  we  reached  the  hotel,  it  was  nearly  one,  and  the  rest 
of  our  company  were  already  there.  Nine  of  us  sat  down  to 
dinner.  After  this  Frau  Tholuck  wanted  to  hear  "Die  Wacht  am 
Rhein,"  the  great  patriotic  song  of  the  day.  Herr  Besser  sings, 
so  I  offered  to  accompany  him.  While  I  was  playing,  Tholuck 
came  over  and  stood  with  others  by  the  piano,  and  as  I  rose,  said, 
"I  did  not  know  that  you  played  so,"  and  folding  his  arms  about  me, 
"I  must  embrace  you,  because  you  have  played  this  song,  and 
with  such  spirit."    I  was  delighted  to  have  given  him  such  pleasure. 

On  our  way  back,  the  Herr  Rath  had  walked  quietly  along  for 
about  half  an  hour,  his  umbrella  under  his  arm,  when  he  sud- 
denly stopped  and  said  to  Prof.  Dorner,  "But  I  have  left  my  um- 
brella behind."  "You  have  it  under  your  arm."  "Oh,  well,  then 
I  must  be  a  gelelirtc,"  was  his  laughing  response,  as  he  trudged 
forward  again. 

On  Tuesday,  we  had  another  excursion,  to  which  we  were  in- 
vited by  Graf  Sedlinitzky,  the  former  bishop.  After  dinner, 
Tholuck  told  over  the  cofifee  several  of  his  inimitable  stories,  some 
of  them  untranslatable. 

On  their  return  to  Halle,  Edward  writes  : — 

Those  six  weeks  in  the  Harz!  What  a  delightful  time  it  was! 


86      REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


And  then  it  is  such  a  pleasure  to  get  back  to  my  studies!  I  hke 
to  read  the  papers  you  send  me,  that  I  may  know  what  questions 
are  discussed  in  the  Christian  world.  As  I  look  at  the  dangers, 
political,  moral  and  religious,  which  seem  to  hang  over  my  coun- 
try; as  I  see  all  the  fearful  tests  to  which  the  Republic  and  the 
Church  are  being  brought,  I  realize  how  great  is  the  need  that 
every  man  with  a  clear  head  and  warm  heart  should  throw  his 
whole  being  to  turn  the  tide  for  truth  and  for  God,  and  that  he 
may  hold  himself  firm  to  the  everlasting  Truth,  the  everlasting 
Life.  What  an  untold  wealth  lies  in  our  nation,  if  it  be  only  de- 
veloped, if  the  full  manhood  of  the  people  be  only  brought  out! 

I  dined  with  Prof.  Ulrici  and  family.  He  is  a  man  of  deep  re- 
ligious feeling  and  a  profound  philosopher.  And  he  is  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  all  periods  and  forms  of  art. 

In  October,  Edward  visited  Leipzig  and  Dresden. 
Throtigh  the  introduction  of  a  friend,  he  formed  a  very 
pleasant  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Gibbens  and  her  daugh- 
ters, an  American  family  residing  in  Dresden.  This  ac- 
quaintance grew  into  an  enduring  friendship. 

I  returned  to  Leipzig  in  time  to  hear  Herr  Joachim  and  his 
wife  in  the  Gewandhaus  Concert.  He  is,  as  you  know,  the  Charles 
Auchester  of  the  romance,  and  the  finest  violin  player  in  the  world. 
It  seemed  like  a  dream  to  hear  him  in  this  place  There  was  David 
his  old  master,  directing,  and  the  wonderful  orchestra  of  the  world 
playing,  and  the  inspired  face  of  Mendelssohn  presiding  over  the 
scene  which  draws  the  most  musical  audience  in  the  world.  I 
return  to-morrow  to  Halle.  The  lectures  will  not  commence  for 
eight  or  ten  days,  but  I  feel  in  haste  to  be  at  my  books  again. 

Halle,  Oct.  30th.  1870. 

I  am  fully  started  in  the  University  once  more.  From  Prof. 
Kostlein,  a  new  teacher,  called  from  Breslau,  I  hear  lectures  on 
Ethics  five  times  a  week;  from  Prof.  Erdman,  four  times,  on  the 
Philosophy  of  Religion,  and  from  the  same,  five  times  on  the 
History  of  Philosophy.  Tholuck  I  hear  twice  a  week,  on  En- 
cyclopedology,  and  Ruhm  twice,  on  Prophecy.  Herr  Besser,  with 
whom  I  take  dogmatics  and  philosophical  studies,  will  be  here  in 
three  weeks.  Then  twice  a  week  I  go,  at  half-past  six,  to  Tholuck's 
study  and  sit  on  the  sofa  beside  him,  where  we  discuss  ethics  for 
an  hour.  I  have  told  Tholuck  that  I  want  in  all  things  to  keep  my 
eye  on  the  ministry,  not  on  a  professorship,  and  I  find  that  he 
remembers  this  and  shapes  his  talk  accordingly. 

Halle,  Nov.  loth,  1870. 

Dear  Mother: — 

In  order  to  keep  up  with  the  lectures  and  get 
their  full  value,  I  have  to  read  a  great  deal,  and  then  the  subjects 
are  so  interesting  that  I  can  scarcely  break  away.  I  am  now  right 
in  the  sea  of  German  thought,  studying  its  richest  treasures,  but 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


87 


at  the  same  time  keeping  up  my  parallel  course  in  the  Hebrew 
poets  and  Greek  biographists.  .  .  I  have  copied  a  short  poem 
from  ihtKladdcradatscli,  hoping  that  you,  or  some  friend,  if  you 
have  not  time,  may  translate  it.  Prof.  Tholuck  read  it  to  me  with 
the  greatest  enjoyment.  I  write  a  good  part  of  my  letters  now  in 
the  academic  quarters.  The  lecture  ends  at  the  hour,  and  the  next 
begins  at  a  quarter  past.  So  I  sometimes  fill  up  these  quarters 
with  writing,  although  I  generally  employ  it  in  walking  out  in  the 
fresh  air,  to  get  my  brain  clear  for  the  next  lecture,  as  these  rooms 
have  absolutely  no  ventilation. 

Nov.  27th,  1870. 

To-day,  Tholuck  preached  one  of  the  most  touching  sermons  I 
ever  heard.  "Confessions  and  Creeds,"  he  said,  "are  the  pilgrim 
garments  which  we  wear  on  our  earthly  pilgrimage,  not  the 
saintly  robes  of  the  love  of  Christ  which  shall  clothe  us." 

The  far-famed  Tholuck  Jubilee  came  off  Dec.  2nd,  of 
which  Edward  wrote  a  detailed  account  for  The  Independent, 
giving  also  a  full  translation  of  Tholuck's  address,  which 
Prof.  Schaff  copied  for  a  Presbyterian  magazine.  In  ex- 
planation of  his  brief  letters  home  at  this  time,  Edward 
writes : — 

In  those  three  or  four  days,  every  moment  was  taxed.  First  of 
all,  I  had  engaged  to  take  part  in  a  few  recitations  and  tableaux, 
arranged  in  honor  of  Frau  Kloer's  birthday.  To  play  Alphonso  in 
a  scene  from  Goethe's  Tasso,  was  one  of  my  performances.  Then 
I  appeared  in  several  tableaux  as  Werther,  as  Goethe,  etc.  I  must 
also  prepare  my  first  dinner  speech  in  German,  and  with  a  very 
short  time  to  do  it  in.  I  must  be  present  at  all  the  jubilee  exer- 
cises, and  secure  my  stenographer  for  Tholuck's  speech  in  Ger- 
man. My  stenographer  found  his  address  full  of  obscurities  and 
complicated  sentences,  while  several  times  there  were  slips  of  the 
tongue,  for  instance,  "at  home  and  abroad,"  for  "at  home  and  in 
the  fatherland."  All  these  I  corrected,  as  well  as  I  could.  About 
three  days  after,  Tholuck  sent  for  me  and  said  that,  if  I  wished,  he 
would  look  it  through  and  correct  it.  I  could  only  tell  him  that 
it  was  already  gone. 

It  was  really  a  great  favor  that  I  was  present  at  the  reception 
of  the  deputations,  on  Friday  morning.  'Tholuck  had  invited  me 
to  be  there  the  day  before,  but  when  I  spoke  of  it  to  his 
amanuensis,  he  was  incredulous,  saying  is  was  impossible;  that 
the  Professor  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  arrangement;  that  the 
Frau  Rathin  had  only  invited  a  few  of  her  particular  friends.  So 
I  must  give  up  my  hope.  But  later  in  the  day,  the  Professor  sent 
down  express  word  that  the  three  Americans  were  to  be  admitted, 
and  that  settled  the  matter. 

Rev.  Dr.  Lysander  Dickerman,  the  well-known  Egyptol- 
ogist, was  at  that  titne  a  student  in  Halle.    In  his  published 


88     REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


account  of  the  jubilee,  he  says:  "One  of  the  most  interest- 
ing features  of  the  day  was  a  brief  address  in  which  Mr. 
Edward  A.  Lawrence,  Jr.,  of  Marblehead,  acquitted  himself 
most  creditably.  .  .  The  response  to  his  address  was 
the  following  brief  sentiment  of  a  German,  "Long  live  the 
Tholuckeans  in  America!" 

This  report  greatly  interested  many  of  Edward's  friends 
in  America,  and  among  them,  Rev.  Ellery  Tyler,  a  son  of 
Pres.  Tyler,  who  had  known  him  as  a  boy  in  East  Windsor 
Hill.  He  writes,  from  \'ineland,  N.  J.:  "I  must  tell  you  of 
the  tearful  pleasure  w^ith  which  I  read  a  recent  number  of 
the  Congrcgatioiialist,  bringing  your  dear  boy  into  notice 
in  so  interesting  and  worthy  a  manner." 

The  following  letter  from  Mr.  Dickerman,  with  regard  to 
the  Jubilee,  was  sent  me  after  Edward's  departure  from 
earth  : — 

In  the  winter  of  1870,  Dr  Tholuck  celebrated  his  Jubilaiiin.  His 
old  pupils  came  to  rejoice  with  him  from  all  parts  of  Germany. 
Italians  and  native  Greeks  were  there.  Three  hundred  plates  were 
set  for  the  distinguished  guests.  Young  Lawrence  was  determined 
that  a  torchlight  procession  should  precede  the  festivities,  and  that 
all  Halle  should  know  that  honor  was  paid  to  its  most  renowned 
professor  and  citizen.  Torchlight  processions  were  not  popular  with 
the  students,  and  even  those  who  promised  to  join  this  one,  did 
not  all  keep  their  promise..  This  was  from  no  want  of  respect  or 
affection  for  Dr.  Tholuck,  but  the  sacrifice  was  greater  than  they 
wanted  to  make.  Mr.  Lawrence  was  not  to  be  defeated  in  his 
determination  to  have  a  procession  of  which  the  friends  of 
Tholuck  could  be  proud.  He  succeeded.  He  entreated,  argued, 
and  possibly  hired  young  men  from  the  city  to  bear  torches,  and 
when  he  came  into  his  room  after  the  imposing  procession  he  was 
covered  with  smoke  and  soot.  I  understood  why  torchlight  proces  - 
sions  in  Germany  were  not  popular.  As  he  looked  at  me  through 
the  flakes  of  soot  that  hung  from  his  eyebrows,  he  said: — "I 
would  not  have  done  this  for  any  other  man,  but  I  was  deter- 
mined that  dear  old  Tholuck  should  not  lack  any  mark  of  respect 
that  was  ever  paid  to  any  other  Halle  professor." 

After  dinner,  when  it  came  his  turn,  he  brought  the  greetings 
of  the  many  American  students  whom  Tholuck  had  aided.  He 
began  his  address  by  an  allusion  to  the  remark  that  "republics 
were  said  to  be  ungrateful,"  and  proved  that  on  one  occasion 
some  sons  of  the  great  western  republic  were  not  so.  The  .Ameri- 
cans present  were  proud  of  him,  as  we  had  every  reason  to  be. 


AS  A  STUDENT  ABROAD. 

Taken  in  Italy. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


89 


and  the  Germans  applautled  him  long  and  lustily.  When  I  went 
up  to  our  honored  Professor  to  present  my  personal  congratula- 
tions, he  said:  "Lead  me  to  Mr.  Lawrence."  He  seized  his 
glass,  then  with  tottering  footsteps  crossed  the  hall,  leaning 
heavily  on  my  arm.  They  looked  into  each  other's  faces,  touched 
glasses,  but  neither  could  speak,  and  neither  could  swallow.  No 
two  hearts  in  all  that  assembly  were  more  firmly  knit  together. 
In  the  afifection  and  high  esteem  of  that  ripe  old  German  scholar, 
of  that  devout  and  sturdy  Christian,  there  was  the  promise  of  use- 
fulness, which  the  young  American  abundantly  fulfilled. 

The  hearty  admiration  of  your  son  by  Prof,  and  Frau  Tholuck 
was  often  expressed  to  me  in  no  measured  terms.  That  they  loved 
him  as  if  he  were  their  own  son  I  never  had  a  doubt.  Hardly  a 
day  passed  that  he  and  Tholuck  did  not  walk  together. 

Edward  sent  home  a  little  pamphlet  entitled, 

DR.  THOLUCK'S. 
FUNFZIGIYAHRIGES  JUBILAUM. 

am  2  December,  1&70. 
Erinncrungs  blatter 
fur 
Frcunde 

Der  Hcbcrschncss  ist  fur  die  Tholuck,   Stiftiing  bcstiment. 

When  sending  this  pamphlet,  he  writes,  "I  know  you  will 
like  to  see  my  virgin  speech.  And  if  you  wish  for  some- 
thing interesting  and  beautiful,  read  No.  16  Preis  des 
Greiser  Alter,  which  you  might  well  translate. 

Edward's  speech,  or  toast  as  it  was  called,  has  been  kindly 
translated  for  me  by  an  old  friend  of  his,  Rev.  Mr.  Zimmer- 
man, pastor  of  the  Lutheran  church  in  Syracuse.  But  it  is 
too  long  to  be  given  here. 

Halle,  Jan.  8th,  1871. 

Dear  Mother: — 

We  sat  the  old  year  out— Frau  Kloer,  LUrich 
Cosack,  Walter  and  I,  and  did  not  go  to  bed  till  the  bells  had  rung 
in  the  new  Decennium.  I  began  it  by  getting  up  early,  to  go  in 
a  quartette,  to  serenade  Frau  Tholuck,  it  being  her  birthday.  We 
sang  three  chorals  in  the  room  adjoining  hers,  and  then  drank 
coffee  there  till  she  appeared,  when  we  gave  our  congratulations. 
Soon  after  came  the  Herr  Professor,  and  we  remained  with  them 
while  they  drank  their  coffee. 

The  cannonade  of  Paris  has  at  last  really  begun.  Frau  Kloer's 
husband  is  captain  of  artillery  before  Fort  Issy,  at  Paris,  and  ac- 


90     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


cording  to  last  night's  news,  this  fort  has  already  been  silenced. 
But  these  are  sad,  anxious  days  for  her,  to  wait  and  watch, 
knowing  that  at  any  moment  a  shot  from  the  enemy  may  strike 
him. 

Have  I  written  you  about  Frau  Prof.  Boehmer,  what  a  charm- 
ing woman  she  is?  I  feel  very  much  at  home  with  her  and  her 
husband. 

After  speaking  of  variotis  plans  for  the  coming  year,  Ed- 
ward writes : — 

Halle,  Jan.  15th,  1871. 
Of  my  longing  to  see  you,  and  of  my  wish  to  be  with  you,  after 
being  away  from  home  more  than  two  years,  you  need  no  assur- 
ance. And  I  have  had  thoughts  about  spending  a  year  at  home 
and  studying  with  father,  and  helping  him,  which  would  be  de- 
lightful. But  I  have  for  some  time  been  coming  to  the  conclusion 
that,  on  the  whole,  the  year  had  better  be  spent  here.  Since  over- 
coming the  difficulties  of  a  foreign  language  I  have  found  myself 
brought  into  a  new  current  of  thoughts  and  opinions.  RIy  studies 
have  been  purely  theological — Exegesis,  Dogmatics,  Christian 
History,  Criticism.  I  have  found  myself  all  the  time  working 
deeper  into  the  heart  of  the  matter.  I  was  never  satisfied,  for  I  had 
not  reached  it.  I  studied  at  times  more  for  the  sake  of  others, 
than  for  my  own  sake.  I  felt  that  I  had  a  living  fact  in  my  ex- 
perience which  could  be  shaken  by  nothing  outward,  but  I  wanted 
to  be  able  to  make  it  clear  to  others  who  had  not  this  experi- 
ence. So  went  by  the  first  year.  Now  it  is  different.  I  feel  as  if 
I  had  reached  a  foundation,  and  that  I  can  build  upon  that.  The 
foundation  is  my  life  in  Christ  and  for  him — if  only  it  were  deep- 
er and  stronger  than  it  is!  And  I  desire  to  bring  this  fact  into 
agreement  with  the  whole  system  of  my  thinking  and  feeling  and 
acting,  so  far  as  possible.  Instead  of  learning  a  system  of  theology 
from  others,  I  would  make  the  doctrines  contained  in  the  life  of 
Christ  my  own.  Before  I  reached  this  standpoint,  I  had  less  in- 
clination for  theology.  There  seemed  to  be  much  in  it  that  was 
arbitrary  and  forced,  made  so  by  theologians.  I  feel  now  first  of 
all  the  need  of  becoming  clear  concerning  myself.  That  wliich  I 
have  lived  in  Christ  remains  what  it  has  been.  How  shall  I  make 
that  life  work  itself  into  all  my  opinions?  I  have  a  work  to  do 
for  the  world, — to  preach  the  Gospel.  But  how  shall  I  look  at 
this  world?  This  I  must  decide  by  working  out  my  own 
life  and  opinions  into  clearness.  I  am  studying  principally 
Kant  and  Schleiermacher.  Kant  takes  me  into  the  inmost  heart 
of  my  understanding,  and  shows  me  that  if  I  rest  there  alone,  I 
can  find  no  God.  He  does  not  stop  there,  however,  but  goes  on 
and  shows  me  a  yet  higher  part  of  myself,  whose  voice  I  must 
hear,  which  tells  me  of  a  God  and  immortality.  Schleiermacher 
shows  me  the  origin  of  my  connection  with  God  as  a  Christian. 
How  I  shall  v/ork  their  suggestions  up  for  myself,  how  much  I 
shall  accept,  how  much  reject,  I  cannot  say,  but  I  feel  that  I  must 
go  on  and  work  my  way  through.    I  have  nowhere  found  such 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


91 


satisfaction  with  theoretical  studies  as  with  these.  I  know  as 
much  as  this:  Whether  I  come  out  a  Calvinist  or  something  else, 
I  shall  have  a  living,  not  a  dead  belief,  and  if  I  accept  Predestina- 
tion, it  will  be  because  I  believe  that  God's  voice  in  Revelation 
and  in  Nature  declares  it  to  us.  If  I  do  not  believe,  it  will  not 
be  because  this  or  that  theologian  has  shown  me  that  his  views 
are  plausible,  but  because  I  have  felt  the  truth.  I  think  you  have 
no  reason  to  fear  that  I  shall  be  led  from  the  truth  of  God  as  he 
has  revealed  it  to  us  in  the  Bible,  for  my  desire  to  search  the 
Scriptures  increases  at  every  stage. 

Leipzig,  Jan.  22d,  1871. 
I  did,  yesterday,  what  I  had  been  meaning  to  do  for  a  long 
time,  called  on  Prof.  Tischendorf.  I  simply  sent  in  my  card,  and 
was  received  very  warmly,  and  had  a  good  hour's  conversation 
with  him.  He  makes  a  pleasant  impression,  is  lively  and  conserva- 
tive, may  possibly  go  to  the  next  Evangelical  Alliance,  when  it 
meets  in  America,  if  he  can  previously  bring  his  grand  edition 
of  the  New  Testament  to  a  good  stage  of  advancement.  He  gave 
me  a  leaf  out  of  the  Codex  Sinaiticus,  of  which  he  had  twenty 
copies  printed  on  parchment  for  the  Emperor  of  Russia.  He  has 
accomplished  much  in  his  line.  Only  one  must  not  take  him  out 
of  his  province,  and  consider  him  a  great  theologian  or  exegete, 
anything  in  fact  other  than  a  fine  text  critic  and  reader  of  manu- 
script. 

Halle,  Feb.  5th,  1871. 

Dear  Mother: — 

The  birthday  letter  came  day  before  yesterday,  to 
my  great  joy.  And  the  picture  of  my  birthday  sister  was  wel- 
comed,— with  how  much  pleasure  I  cannot  begin  to  tell  you.  Anna 
has  the  same  familiar  look,  and  yet  is  greatly  changed. 

You  will  like  to  know  what  I  am  reading  just  now.  It  is  Kant's 
Critique  of  the  Pure  Reason.  I  have  finished  the  first  reading 
and  am  now  in  a  condition  to  begin  really  to  read  it.  I  find  no  diffi- 
culty in  the  style,  but  to  know  the  systematic  work  as  a  whole  is 
a  labor  of  time.  I  am  repelled  by  the  man's  lack  of  heart  and 
warmth,  and  feel  that  in  many  cases  he  sees  only  the  half  truth. 
But  I  admire  his  clearness  and  depth,  and  the  fearlessness  with 
which  he  seeks  to  penetrate  into  the  centre  of  our  being,  with- 
out letting  himself  be  bound  by  authorities. 

I  have  just  commenced  Lotze's  Metaphysik  with  Besser.  He  is 
professor  of  Philosophy  in  Gottingen,  and  the  most  important 
philosopher  of  the  day,  standing  far  removed  from  the  extremes 
of  either  Hegel  or  Hebart.  Then  I  am  reading  and  hearing  lec- 
tures all  the  time  on  the  history  of  Philosophy.  Just  now,  Spinoza 
is  under  consideration.  Then  comes  the  Dogmatic  of  Schleier- 
macher,  to  which  I  always  return  with  fresh  pleasure,  no  matter 
how  far  I  am  from  him  in  his  conclusions.  His  Discourses  Con- 
cerning Religion  I  read  occasionally,  in  the  evening,  with  Besser. 
And  I  have  just  finished  his  monologues  with  my  friend,  Frau 
Kloer,  which  I  have  read  to  her  evenings,  between  half-past  nine 
and  eleven.     I  have  also  been  reading  portions  of  his  letters. 


92      REMIXISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


which  are  pubHshed  in  three  or  four  volumes.  Tliere.  one  feels 
the  great  contrast  between  him  and  Kant.  What  a  full,  loving 
heart  he  has  for  all  whom  he  can  reach,  and  who  have  faculties  which 
can  be  developed  and  elevated!  In  the  theological  line,  again, 
comes  Ethics,  which  I  hear  from  Prof.  Kostlein.  When  I  add 
that,  once  or  twice  a  week,  I  read  with  Louise  and  Conrad  Cosack 
the  Nicbcluiigcii  Lied,  you  will  see  that  I  have  no  time  to  be  idle. 

There  was  a  strong  feeling  among  several  who  were  inter- 
ested in  Edward,  some  of  them  being  teachers  in  a  Univer- 
sity or  Theological  Seminary,  that  he  should  study  with  a 
view  to  a  professorship,  and  that,  for  this  purpose,  he  ought 
to  secure  a  Doctorate  of  Philosophy.  One  of  the  Andover 
professors  wTote  a  letter  to  Edward's  father,  from  which 
brief  extracts  are  made.  "I  have  often  heard  of  your  son, 
and  have  been  led  to  suppose  that  he  would  become  a  teach- 
er in  some  theological  seminary,  and  have  therefore  sup- 
posed that  he  would  remain  and  secure  a  degree  of  Doctoi 
in  Philosophy.  I  know  the  dangers  of  a  foreign  residence, 
but  educated  as  your  son  has  been,  I  presume  he  will  es- 
cape them. 

.  .  "I  have  thought  of  asking  him  to  furnish  some  articles 
for  the  Bibliothccd  Socra,  exhibiting  the  views  of  the  German 
scholars.  Why  is  it  not  best  that  he  should  gain  as  much  of 
the  prestige,  resulting  from  his  studies  in  Germany,  as  possi- 
ble?   The  reputation  which  Prof.  acquired  from  his 

foreign  residence  has  helped  him  greatly."  When  his  moth- 
er reported  these  opinions,  sending  him  the  professor's  let- 
ter, he  replied : — 

Halle.  Feb.  27th.  1871. 
I  am  not  thinking  of  a  professorship.  I  do  not  mean  to  affirm 
that  I  would  never  be  a  professor.  But  now.  my  sole  aim  is  to  fit 
myself  to  preach  the  Gospel  and  to  teach  it  as  a  pastor,  and  I  should 
consider  anything  that  would  turn  me  aside  from  that  purpose 
as  a  hindrance.  As  a  minister,  I  desire  a  much  broader  range 
than  is  usually  sought,  with  the  ability  to  command  press  and 
platform  in  my  work,  although  with  everything  running  in  that 
channel.  To  study  with  a  view  to  a  professorship  would  not  be 
concentration.  I  could  study  up  for  the  degree  of  a  Doctor  of 
Philosophy,  but  in  many  things  this  would  turn  me  aside  from  my 
chosen  work.  I  would  not  reject  "prestige"  of  course,  but  to  labor 
just  for  its  sake,  I  hope  never  to  do.    And  I  should  far  rather  win 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


93 


a  professorship  by  hard  work  than  to  study  now  for  the  prestige 
of  a  degree.  .  .  German  Theology,  Philosophy  and  Ethics,  in 
their  working  and  counter-working,  I  have  studied  and  wish  to 
study  still  more  in  their  original  atmosphere. 

Edward  wrote  us  of  the  plan  of  a  journey  with  his  friend 
Dickerman  in  the  spring  vacation.  He  found  that  he  was 
quite  willing  to  travel  in  the  third-class  cars,  to  which  Ed- 
ward had  accustomed  himself,  and  to  do  other  things  in  the 
same  economical  fashion. 

Of  this  journey,  Mr.  Dickerman  has  written: — 

At  the  close  of  the  winter  semester,  in  March,  1871,  we  started 
for  Italy  together,  and  for  two  or  three  days  were  "The  two  Gentle- 
men of  Verona,"  as  Ned  wittily  expressed  it.  We  visited  Venice 
via  Leghorn  to  Naples,  then  to  Rome  and  Florence,  afterwards  to 
Pisa  and  Geneva,  via  Spezzia.  He  spent  the  following  summer 
in  Geneva  and  I  in  Zurich.  This  tells  nothing  of  the  lovely  char- 
acter which  has  left  on  my  memory  and  heart  an  abiding  admira- 
tion. Oh,  how  I  miss  him!  No  more  charming  travelling  com- 
panion can  be  imagined.  He  was  always  cheerful,  conscientious, 
and  unselfish.  The  early  training  of  his  boyhood,  his  thorough 
education,  and  his  scholarship  made  him  remarkably  intelligent. 
Few  subjects  were  introduced  on  which  he  had  not  thought  or 
read,  and  his  intimate  knowledge  of  the  Latin  poets  and  orators 
shone  brightly  as  we  visited  the  eternal  city  and  its  environs. 

Later,  Mr.  Dickerman  writes  :  "I  am  glad  you  are  to  pub- 
lish a  memorial  of  your  son.  Yet  I  have  a  strong  feeling  that 
no  printed  page  can  ever  do  jtistice  to  the  noble  life  so  early 
closed.  It  is  a  blessing  ever  to  have  met  such  a  man.  I 
loved  him.  I  cherish  his  memory  with  a  sacred  passion. 
What  will  it  be  to  meet  him  amid  the  glories  that  can  never 
end?" 

Only  a  few  extracts  from  Edward's  accotmt  of  his  jour- 
neyings  will  be  given. 

Hotel  Washington,  Naples,  March  12th,  1871. 

I  am  looking  right  out  on  the  lovely  bay,  Capri  in 
front.  Vcsusius  on  the  left,  an  old,  moss-grown  fortress 
right  under  my  eyes,  and  our  own  American  ship,  the  Franklin, 
lying  in  the  centre  of  the  harbor  saluting,  or  being  saluted  by  the 
forts  on  shore.  It  is  an  incomparably  beautiful  scene.  Father 
knows  it,  and  can  understand  my  rapture. 

I  joined  Dickerman  at  Munich,  dined  with  the  Stuntzes.  with 


94 


REMINISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


whom  I  had  a  joyful  meeting,  called  on  Dr.  Dollinger,  the  Catho- 
lic, talking  with  him  for  half  an  hour.  .  .  Our  neighbor  in  the 
coupe  was  M.  Coqueril  fils — a  Protestant  French  minister  of  Paris. 
I  have  seldom  met  a  man  who  unites  so  much  quickness  and 
keenness  of  thought  with  such  varied  and  extensive  learning. 
We  exchanged  cards,  and  he  invited  us  to  visit  him  in  Paris, 
should  its  days  of  trial  ever  pass  by. 

.  .  .  Here  in  Milan,  first  in  interest  comes  the  Cathedral,  and 
I  cannot  even  attempt  to  express  my  admiration.  I  am  lost  in 
the  forest  of  its  columns.  My  eyes  are  never  turned  towards  any 
part  without  discovering  some  new  beauty.  This  morning,  I 
visited  Santa  Maria  della  Grazia,  where  I  saw  Leonardo  \'inci's 
Last  Supper,  and  studied  for  a  long  time  the  expression  of  each 
face.  .  .  In  Florence,  I  made  the  acquaintance,  among  many 
others,  of  Salvator  Borghi,  a  member  of  Parliament  and  editor  of 
La  Perseverance,  in  jMilan,  the  most  important  paper  in  Northern 
Italy.  I  had  much  time  with  him  and  gained  information  that 
you  will  see  some  day.  My  Italian  improves,  and  I  am  able  to 
carry  on  a  conversation,  provided  it  be  not  too  deep. 

They  spent  some  time  in  Rome,  where  Ned  in  his  usual 
fashion  made  a  study  of  the  manners  and  customs,  the  mu- 
sic, the  architecture,  the  art  and  the  artists — ancient  and 
modern — the  saints  and  the  sinners,  the  history,  the  philoso- 
phy and  the  religion  of  the  imperial  city.  It  was  not  simply 
sight-seeing,  interested  as  he  was  in  that,  but  going  into  the 
roots  of  things.  He  writes:  "Henry  Ward  Beecher's  let- 
ter, stating  that  I  was  a  correspondent  of  the  Christian 
Union,  and  bespeaking  for  me  the  usual  courtesies,  is  just 
what  I  wanted  to  admit  me  inside  the  Catholic  element  at 
Rome.  Most  people  condemn  froin  the  outside  ;  I  would 
rather  condemn  from  the  inside."  In  one  of  his  published 
letters  he  considered  quite  fully  what  he  called  "The  Roman 
Question,"  presenting  the  pros  and  cons  relating  to  the 
Pope's  temporal  sovereignty. 

Edward  was  assisted  in  carrying  out  several  of  his  plans 
by  Father  Metcalf,  who  was  at  that  time  a  resident  of  Rome, 
and  with  whom  he  renewed  his  acquaintance  some  years 
later  at  Marblehead,  where  he  found  him  settled  as  pastor  of 
the  Catholic  Church  there. 

Florence,  Via  Guelfa,  May  12th,  1871. 
Your  last  letter  is  full  of  recollections  of  the  past.    I  shall  think 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


95 


of  you  and  of  that  silver  wedding  day  on  the  20th,  a  day  full  of 
sunshine  and  happiness.  Such  days  lie  now  only  in  that  great, 
inexhaustible  future,  which  is  before  us. 

My  son  often  referred  in  his  letters  to  his  genial  fellow- 
traveller,  Mr.  Dickerman,  who  added  much  to  his  enjoy- 
ment. 

Edward  reached  Geneva  in  June,  where  he  writes :  "The 
last  week  was  the  Anniversary  week  here  and  full  of  interest. 
Numbers  of  pastors  from  all  parts  of  Switzerland  and  from 
Paris  and  Italy  were  present.  There  was  a  social  reunion,  to 
which  Merle  d'Aubigne  sent  me  an  invitation.  It  was  at 
one  of  the  beautiful  villas,  a  mile  or  two  out  of  the  city.  The 
grounds  were  all  open,  and  we  strolled  about  on  the  border 
of  Lake  Leman,  with  the  Alps  on  one  side  and  the  Jura 
on  the  other,  all  in  the  beautiful  light  of  the  moon.  Refresh- 
ments were  abundant,  the  grounds  were  lighted  up  as  it  grew 
dark,  and  we  had  very  interesting  speeches,  mostly  from 
those  who  had  taken  part  in  the  war.  I  have  already  experi- 
enced unusual  courtesy  from  the  professors  and  ministers  of 
Geneva." 

Edward  passed  a  few  weeks  in  Geneva,  securing  a  pleas- 
ant home  in  the  family  of  Pastor  Bost,  with  whom  and 
Madame  Bost  he  formed  a  warm  friendship.  Besides  various 
excursions  among  the  mountains,  of  which  he  sent  home 
most  glowing  descriptions,  he  made  a  thorough  study  of  the 
city,  both  historically  and  theologically. 

Oberammergau,  Sept.  loth,  1871. 

Dear  Mother: — 

I  have  just  heard  the  Passion  Play  for  the  third 
and  last  time.  The  first  Sunday  I  was  in  the  house  of  Christus 
and  learned  to  know  him  well;  then  I  came  here  to  the  house  of 
Pilatus  and  have  been  here  ever  since.  One  of  his  daughters  takes 
the  Virgin  Mary;  another  is  in  the  chorus  of  guardian  spirits. 
The  whole  family  is  charming.  I  have  been  trying  to  get  some 
of  the  music  just  for  my  own  pleasure,  and  to-day,  one  of  the  two 
girls  slipped  one  of  the  chief  parts  out  of  the  theatre,  and  I  shall 
copy  some  of  it  to-morrow.  They  say  no  one  must  know  of  it, 
but  I  have  no  scruples  of  conscience,  as  I  do  not  mean  to  make 
any  public  use  of  what  I  get. 


96      REMIXISCEXCES  OF   THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


There  is  always  an  immense  concourse  of  visitors,  chiefly  Ameri- 
can and  Enghsh,  which  rolls  in  here  Saturday  night,  and  off 
again  Monday.  During  the  week  the  village  is  quiet,  and  then  I 
enjoy  it  best.  Could  I  have  my  books  and  study  and  write,  I 
should  much  rather  stay  here  than  to  journey  all  around.  But 
I  regard  the  latter  as  a  kind  of  duty,  and  shall,  of  course,  adhere 
to  my  plan.  The  people  are  just  now  going  out  of  the  village, 
and  many  drop  in  to  say  good-bye  to  the  two  beautiful  girls.  I 
have  to  smile  at  the  stereotyped  inquiries  put  by  successive  visit- 
ors to  each  of  them: — "Are  you  not  very  tired?''  "Was  it  not  ex- 
tremely exhausting?"  I  have  proposed  that  they  should  have  a 
list  of  answers  printed,  which  can  be  put  into  the  hands  of  every 
questioner. 

The  two  girls  were  seated  on  the  bench  near  me,  and  at  my 
request,  have  written  their  greeting  to  you,  which  I  enclose.  They 
have  now  gone  out  into  the  field  to  work.  Think  of  it!  I  grow 
indignant  whenever  I  see  it.  They  become  old  women  before  they 
have  ceased  to  be  young. 

Shortly  after  Edward  passed  from  earth  there  appeared 
in  the  Poughkeepsie  Eagle  the  following  passage  from 
Father  McSweeney,  formerly  a  resident  of  that  city. 

Mount  St.  Mary's,  Nov.  19,  1893. 

I  recall  one  out  of  several  delightful  instances  of  Mr.  Lawrence's 
honest  courage  and  courtliness. 

It  was  at  the  Vassar  Institute.  One  of  us  priests  had  spoken 
of  the  Passion  Play,  setting  forth  its  eloquence,  its  beauty  and  its 
power.  Yet,  having  never,  up  to  that  time,  seen  it  himself,  he  could 
hardly  reply  with  much  confidence  to  those  who  rose  and  differed 
with  his  views.  To  his  great  delight  Mr.  Lawrence  got  up  and  sur- 
prised us  all  by  relating  how  he  had  seen  the  play  and  thought  so 
well  of  it  as  a  means  of  Gospel  teaching,  not  to  speak  of  its  su- 
preme artistic  excellence,  that  he  had  visited  it  three  times  in  the 
same  summer,  sitting  out  each  while  the  eight  hours'  performance. 
The  result  was  that  the  priest  was  immediately  consulted  by  vari- 
ous members  of  the  audience  about  the  works  he  had  quoted,  and 
several  of  those  present  went  to  see  the  play  the  year  after,  includ- 
ing the  priest  himself. 

So  here  and  now  that  priest  drops  this  little  spray  of  respect 
and  affection  on  the  sunny  southern  grave  of  his  former  fellow- 
citizen  and  associate. 

EDWARD  McSWEENEY. 

Baden  Baden,  Sept.  21st,  1871. 

I  have  just  come  from  the  play  tables.  I  can  readily  under- 
stand how  a  person  once  under  way  should  be  fascinated.  I  have 
seen  one  young  man  almost  break  the  bank.  .  .  Many  ladies 
sit  the  whole  day  at  the  table,  which  is  open  from  eleven  in  the 
morning  till  midnight. 

On  Saturday,  I  went  to  Bad  Rolf,  the  establishment  of  Pastor 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE.  JR. 


97 


Blumhardt.  He  is  the  man  who,  nineteen  years  ago,  cured  one 
"possessed  of  a  devil,"  by  prayer,  and  since  then  is  said  to  have 
wrought  many  wonderful  cures.  I  had  heard  so  much  of  him  that 
I  was  anxious  to  see  with  my  own  eyes.  I  found  about  ninety- 
three,  most  of  them  troubled  in  mind,  who  wished  rest  from  the 
world  and  Christian  intercourse  with  him.  He  is  a  charming 
man,  reminding  me  somewhat  of  Tholuck,  and  well  calculated 
to  exert  a  strong  influence.  Of  late  years,  his  cures  have  been 
less  frequent.  Neither  is  that  his  express  object,  but  much  more 
to  lead  souls  to  Christ. 

From  there  I  went  to  Tubingen,  where  I  visited  Profs.  Oehler, 
Palmer,  Weizecker  and  Wildemuth.  Beck  was  not  at  home.  At 
Reutlingen  I  visited  the  institutions  of  Werner,  whom  Palmer  calls 
the  Christian  Communist,  and  spent  a  few  hours  at  Fraulein 
Seckendorf's,  an  establishment  similar  to  Blumhardt's,  only  more 
so;  and  here  I  met  facts  which  staggered  me,  cases  of  cures  ad- 
mitted by  all,  which  could  not  be  accounted  for  on  ordinary 
grounds.  I  want  to  get  some  insight  into  the  religious  peculiarities 
of  the  land,  and  this  was  one  of  my  great  reasons  for  visiting  the 
Tubingen  professors. 

Gottingen,  Oct.  7th,  1871. 

My  Dear  Father: — 

I  am  very  glad  that  you  had  a  birthday,  and 
doubly  glad  that  I  can  congratulate  you  upon  it,  as  your  son.  I 
pray  that  you  may  long  be  able  to  work  for  Christ,  and  that  when 
you  can  do  that  no  more,  your  life  may  reappear  in  that  of  your  son. 

Halle,  Oct.  gth,  1871. 

I  cannot  express  my  emotions  on  seeing  Tholuck  again.  He  took 
my  hand,  put  his  arm  around  me;  and  said: — "God  be  thanked, 
my  beloved  friend,  that  we  meet  once  more!" 

At  the  close  of  the  war,  Herr  Hauptmann  Kloer  found  in 
Madgeburg  a  pleasant  suite  of  rooms,  just  outside  the  city  on  an 
island  between  two  arms  of  the  Elbe  where  they  have  an  outlook 
over  the  whole  region. 

Oct.  I2th,  1871. 

I  do  not  deserve  to  be  treated  with  such  kindness.  They  were 
both  at  the  station  when  I  arrived,  and  the  two  now  sit  near  me, 
and  send  to  my  father  and  mother  "einen  gruss  wenn  das  sich 
schikt,"  says  Frau  Kloer,  "wcnn  nicht,  eine  empfehlung." 

Madgeburg.  Oct.  i6th. 

It  was  a  good  idea  proposed  yesterday,  that  a  gemeinschatlicher 
brief  should  be  sent  to  Marblehead.  So  I  open  the  list,  and  bring 
the  other  members  of  the  trio  into  the  paternal  house  as  wel- 
come guests.  We  have  a  small  republic  where  each  one  has 
his  own  way,  a  Christian  Commune,  which  seeks  to  secure  God's 
best  gifts,  and  share  them  with  others.  And  thus,  although  our 
republic  consists  of  different  sexes  and  different  nationalities,  and 
different  professions,  we  never  have  discords,  for  our  aims  are  one. 
This  outward  union  in  one  place  can,  indeed,  last  but  for  a  short 
time,  but  it  will  continue,  I  think,  when  one  of  its  members  has 
migrated,  and  may,  perhaps,  fit  each  of  us  better  to  enter  into  the 


9^     REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


divine  kingdom,  where  there  is  no  more  need  of  republics.  But 
I  must  make  way  for  the  lady-member,  who  will  be  followed  by 
our  army. 

My  Dear  Sister  Anna: — 

Nothing  of  all  we  meet  in  the  world  can  ever 
completely  satisfy  our  wishes.  They  are  but  single  rays  of  light 
which  come  from  the  great  Source.  And  only  in  reaching  that, 
only  in  coming  to  the  great  Divine  Life,  to  God  himself,  shall  we 
find  what  we  seek.  It  is  hard,  is  it  not?  to  love  so  intensely  one 
whom  we  cannot  see,  one  whom  we  cannot  take  to  ourselves,  and 
looking  in  his  face,  tell  him  all  we  feel?  But  that  is  only  because 
our  eyes  are  blinded  so  that  we  cannot  see  him.  The  reality, 
however,  is  just  the  same. 

Reluctant  as  Edward  was  to  part  from  Tholuck,  he  felt 

clear  that  it  was  best  to  carry  out  his  original  intention  to 

spend  some  months  at  the  University  in  Berlin. 

Berlin,  Oct.  28th,  1871. 
I  have  been  with  a  friend  of  Besser's  who  has  devoted  his  life  to 
the  working  classes.  He  is  well  to  do,  has  taken  his  degree  in  the 
University,  and  can,  therefore,  pursue  his  work  with  independ- 
ence. He  has  started  well  in  Berlin,  but  the  lamentable  thing 
about  it  is  that  the  church  and  philanthropy  stand  at  sword's 
points  with  one  another.  Any  humanitarian  enterprise  which 
has  a  church-tinge  to  it  is  suspected  by  all  parties, — by 
the  church  itself,  as  if  it  were  against  the  church  to  work 
in  any  other  than  the  established  channels;  by  the  people,  be- 
cause it  seems  to  proceed  from  the  church,  for  which  they  have 
no  sympathy.  A  clergyman  thus  finds  it  hard  to  engage  in  any 
work  of  practical  beneficence,  other  than  that  which  has  been 
handed  down  to  him  by  tradition. 

Berlin,  Nov. 

I  have  told  you  something  about  Besser,  the  best  friend  I  have 
among  the  German  students,  and  just  now  made  professor.  To- 
day, I  have  received  his  Latin  dissertation  which  he  presented, 
last  Monday,  as  his  opening  work,  "De  Notionc  Suhjectivae  Fidei 
quae  Ecstat  in  Quator  Evangclis."  He  is  especially  beloved  by 
Tholuck,  and  has  charge  of  the  Tholuck  house  for  students. 

You  will  want  to  know  about  my  work  here.  I  leave  my  room 
at  eight  in  the  morning  and  hear  Dorner's  Dogmatics  till  nine. 
Then  till  ten,  five  times  a  week,  I  hear  Bruckner  in  Biblical  The- 
ology of  the  New  Testament.  From  ten  till  eleven  I  read  and  dis- 
cuss with  a  young  professor.  Schleiermacher's  Ethics,  and  from 
eleven  till  twelve,  hear  Harms  on  Philosophical  Ethics.  Every 
Thursday  evening  I  am  in  the  Theological  Society  at  Dorner's, 
when  we  read  and  discuss  Rothe's  Ethics.  Saturday  evening,  I 
am  in  another  society,  directed  by  him,  for  the  discussion  of 
Plato's  Ethics.  Monday  evening,  I  am  often  in  a  Philosophical 
Society,  where  various  topics  are  discussed.  You  will  see  that 
I  am  making  a  specialty  of  Ethics. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


99 


I  am  often  at  a  pleasant  evening  party  at  Dorner's. 
There  comes  a  simple  invitation: — "Professor  Dorner  and  wife 
would  be  happy  to  have  Mr.  Lawrence  drink  tea  with  them  on 
Friday  evening,  at  eight  o'clock."  Very  soon  after  the  appointed 
hour  I  am  there  in  full  dress.  Frau  Dorner  is  on  the  sofa,  and 
before  her  is  the  usual  oval  table,  with  a  plate  of  cakes  upon  it. 
On  the  other  side  stand  the  gentlemen,  for  Frau  Dorner  is  the 
only  lady  present.  The  guests  in  this  case  were  mostly  older 
students  or  young  candidates.  I  seated  myself  by  Frau  Dorner, 
and  talked  with  her  about  Prof.  Richard  Rothe  of  Heidelberg, 
whom  she  knows  quite  well.  Cups  of  tea  were  passed  around, 
and  we  sat  there  about  an  hour,  eating  cakes  and  sipping  tea. 
Then  we  adjourned  to  the  next  room,  where  the  supper  table  was 
spread,  and  about  sixteen  or  eighteen  sat  down,  the  Professor  in 
the  middle  on  one  side,  and  the  Frau  on  the  other.  There  were 
all  sorts  of  cold  meats,  ham,  tongue  and  roasts,  bread  and  butter 
and  tea.  We  sat  there,  talking  and  eating,  Dorner  having  a  word 
for  every  one  and  presiding  with  his  accustomed  urbanity.  We 
talked  of  universities  and  churches,  of  new  books  and  various 
theologians.  Then  the  cups  and  plates  were  removed,  new  ones 
laid  on,  and  puddings,  with  bottles  or  red  and  white  wine,  brought 
in.  The  conversation  was  continued  over  the  wine,  Dorner  seeing 
that  the  glasses  were  kept  filled.  Lastly  came  cake.  We  talked 
on  till  after  eleven,  when  the  company  dispersed. 

With  his  fellow  students  in  Berlin  my  son  made  a  num- 
ber of  acquaintances  that  he  greatly  valued,  some  of  them 
being  his  own  countrymen.  Among  these  was  Mr.  Frank- 
lin W.  Fisk,  now  President  of  Chicago  Theological  Semi- 
nary, who  writes  warmlv  of  Edward. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE     WINTER    IN      BERLIN      AND  HOMEWARD 
JOURNEY. 

To  make  some  nook  of  God's  Creation  a  little  fruitfuller,  better, 
more  worthy  of  God;  to  make  some  human  hearts  a  little  wiser, 
manfuller,  happier,  more  blessed,  less  accursed,  is  work  for  God. 
Sooty  Hell  of  mutiny  and  savagery  and  despair  can,  by  man's 
energy,  be  made  a  kind  of  Heaven,  God  and  all  men  looking  on  it 
well  pleased. — Carlyle. — Past  and  Present. 

On  account  of  his  mother's  and  his  sister's  health,  it  was 
decided  that  they  should  accept  the  invitation  of  some 
Scotch  friends,  and  taking  an  ocean  voyage,  pass  several 
weeks  in  the  suburbs  of  Glasgow. 

After  a  few  weeks  in  Scotland,  it  seemed  best  for  them  to 
go  to  Berlin.  Edward  writes  his  father :  "As  Anna  has 
gained  so  much,  the  winter  can  be  made  very  profitable  to 
her  in  German  and  music.  I  don't  know  just  how  I  shall 
arrange  for  mother,  but  shall  find  out  the  best  way.  I  would 
rather  deny  myself  many  pleasures  than  to  have  her  fail  of  a 
happy  winter  here." 

That  winter  in  Franzosische  Strasse  65.  IV,  was  indeed  a 
happy  one.  On  Jan.  i6th,  the  double  birthday,  we  had  a 
celebration,  our  landlady,  Frau  Bernstein,  preparing  for  us 
a  cofifee-supper,  to  which  we  had  brought,  in  anticipation, 
from  friends  in  Scotland,  oatcake,  buns  and  various  et 
ceteras,  while  as  guests  Edward  invited  his  English,  Ameri- 
can, German,  Scotch  and  Italian  friends.  He  had  rented 
a  piana  for  his  sister,  and  her  face  was  radiant  with  delight 
that  her  great  ambition  had  come  to  pass,  and  she  could 
play  well  enough  to  have  Ned  accompany  her  with  his  flute. 

In  a  letter  to  the  father  at  home,  Edward's  mother  writes : 
Our  manner  of  life  is  very  simple.    About  half-past  seven,  the 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


lOI 


servant  makes  a  fire  in  the  porcelain  stove  in  the  larger  bedroom, 
A  little  before  eight,  coffee  and  rolls  come  in  with  just  so  many- 
lumps  of  sugar.  I  give  Edward  his  breakfast,  and  he  is  off  to 
lecture.  Then  Anita  and  I  take  ours  more  leisurely.  The  madchen 
soon  makes  a  fire  in  our  sitting  room,  putting  things  in  order. 
Edward  has  a  second  lecture  at  eleven. 

On  Tuesdays  and  Fridays,  when  Anita  has  no  Conservatory 
lessons,  Ned  has  arranged  for  his  young  friend  Ulrich  Cosack  to 
meet  us  at  the  Museum,  when  for  an  hour  or  two,  he  acts  as  our 
guide,  enlightening  us  as  to  the  wonders  that  everywhere  greet 
our  eyes.   And  we  have  the  catalogue  that  Ress  and  Meta  used. 

Edward  seemed  very  happy  to  have  his  inother  and  sister 
with  him,  taking  them  on  unceremonious  and  frequent  vis- 
its at  Dr.  Cramer's,  to  dehghtful  evenings  at  the  Loesches 
of  Oranienburger  Strasse,  and  to  the  fortnightly  receptions 
at  Dr.  Abbott's,  at  Hansvoigti  Platz,  where  a  pleasant  com- 
pany was  always  gathered.    Then  there  were  the  garden 
cencerts,  the  dinners  at  half  past  one  on  Unter  den  Linden, 
where,  in  daily  passing  the  palace,  the  good  old  Emperor 
was  seen  at  the  window,  reading  his  paper;  and  the  long 
walks,  especially  in  the  Thiergarten,  reached  through  the 
classic  Brandenburg  gate.   But  nothing  was  of  more  inter- 
est than  the  Museum,  with  which  Edward  had  become  so 
familiar,  and  where  he  delighted  to  point  out  the  wonderful 
collection  of  statuary,  the  Kaulbach  mural  paintings,  and 
the  galleries  of  the  old  masters. 

A  great  addition  to  their  enjoyment  was  frequent  inter- 
course with  Edward's  particular  friends,  Herr  Hauptman 
and  Frau  Kloer,  who  had  arranged  to  pass  some  months  in 
the  city  while  we  were  there. 

Ned  introduced  to  us  his  bookseller  and  friend,  Edward 
Muller,  of  the  firm  of  Meyer  &  Muller,  with  whom  they 
formed  a  pleasant  acquaintance. 

Berlin,  Feb.  loth,  1872. 

Dear  Father: — 

I  wish  you  could  see  how  mother  and  Anna  get 
along  in  the  new  life.  The  contrasts  between  the  German  ideal  and 
actual— the  thought  and  the  act, — strike  mother  very  strangely, 
and  she  wants  to  have  them  explained.    But  that  is  just  what  can- 


132    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


not  be  done.  She  often  says,  "How  much  your  father  would  en- 
joy this!" 

Edward  frequently  met  George  Bancroft,  our  minister  to 
Berlin,  who  was  good  enough,  one  day,  to  mount  up  to  the 
third  story  of  the  house  where  they  had  lodgings,  to  call  on 
his  mother  and  sister.  At  that  time,  a  son  of  Henry  B. 
Smith,  William  Allen  Smith,  who  has  since  passed  from 
earth,  was  his  private  secretary.  After  Edward's  departure 
he  sent  the  following  lines  : — 

I  learned  very  quickly  to  admire  the  manliness  and  sincerity  of 
Mr.  Lawrence's  character,  the  even  balance  of  his  mind,  his  exact 
and  studious  and  comprehensive  methods.  He  was  a  thoroughly 
genial  man,  clear  and  straightforward,  always  considerate  of  the 
feelings  and  opinions  of  others,  and  ever  ready  to  bear  his  share 
of  work,  or  of  social  obligation.  I  have  a  very  clear  recollection 
of  him  as  an  unusually  symmetrical  young  man,  so  that  his  later 
growth  and  distinction  were  just  what  one  would  have  expected. 

Rev.  Alfred  Myers,  of  the  Collegiate  Reformed  Church  in 
New  York,  was  a  classmate  of  Edward  in  the  Theological 
Seminary  at  Princeton.  The  following  letter  from  him 
speaks  for  itself : — 

Edward  liked  a  cool  room  to  study  in,  but  the  coolness  was  all 
in  the  physical  atmosphere.  His  heart  shone  out  through  the 
friendly  eyes  and  thrilled  in  the  warm  hand-grasp,  which  con- 
veyed the  affectionate,  transparent  nature  of  the  man. 

We  parted  at  the  wharf  in  New  York,  when  he  went  abroad. 
And  he  had  completed  his  studies  in  Halle  before  we  again  met 
in  Berlin,  in  the  winter  of  1871-1872.  Those  were  the  days  when 
the  German  soldiers  seemed  to  tread  on  air  as  they  marched 
through  the  streets,  and  the  strains  of  their  martial  music  had 
in  them  only  the  ring  of  victory. 

Edward  acquired  a  home-knowledge  of  the  Germans.  Many  of 
the  best  families  were  eager  to  receive  the  cultured  young  Ameri- 
can. As  you  know,  he  was  a  special  favorite  with  Tholuck.  To 
go  there  in  company  with  him  was  to  ensure  a  warm  reception. 
A  walk  with  the  great  professor  up  and  down  his  garden  is  fresh 
in  my  memory.  He  conversed  freely  on  theological  and  other 
subjects,  answering  our  questions  in  his  own  sweet  and  wise 
way.  One  remark  he  made  concerning  Edward,  which  I  have 
never  forgotten, — "When  he  returns  to  America,  a  great  ethical 
light — ein  grosse  cthisches  licht — will  arise." 

The  brief  entries  in  my  diary  of  those  Berlin  days  are  now  to  me 
of  touching  significance: — Nov.  19th,  1871.  Long  talk  with  Ned. 
Dec.  4th.    Ned  came  in  the  afternoon  for  music.    Dec.  6th.  Ned 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  IO3 


came.  Chat  about  Kant.  Dec.  i8th.  Ned  arranged  for  Christ- 
mas dinner.  Jan.  22d,  1872.  I  have  not  seen  Ned  to-day.  The 
close  of  my  stay  in  Berlin  is  recorded.  Jan.  27th.  Call  from  Ned. 
Good-bye  to  Ned. 

As  a  friend,  Edward  was  cheery,  helpful  and  unexacting;  as  a 
Christian,  he  was  always  hopeful;  as  a  minister,  incessantly 
diligent,  enterprising  and  progressive. 

A  light  always  shone  from  his  clear  soul  in  his  personal  char- 
acter. It  never  failed  in  calm  or  storm.  He  brought  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  lowliest  the  culture  acquired  by  all  his  study  and  world- 
encircling  travel.  We  who  knew  him  best,  knew  that  this  was 
done  without  one  thought  of  self. 

There  was  no  trait  of  my  dear  friend  that  more  impressed  me 
than  his  transparent  honesty.  He  was  without  guile.  His  face 
was  as  sunny  as  a  summer  day.  His  eyes  were  windows,  and  there 
were  no  blinds  of  policy  or  design  to  keep  one  from  seeing  what 
was  going  on  in  his  soul,  for  there  was  nothing  to  conceal. 

He  was  an  every-day  Christian  philosopher.  The  principles  of 
the  doctrines  of  Christ,  into  which  he  had  so  deeply  delved  in 
the  mines  of  theory  and  speculation,  were  by  him  constantly  ap- 
plied to  the  problems  of  life.  Often  his  wise  and  pithy  sayings 
come  to  me,  and  happy  hours  of  our  talk  on  nearly  all  things  in 
heaven,  earth  and  sea  pass  in  review  before  me. 

0  kind  and  faithful  friend!  I  write  thus  of  thee,  and  yet  it  is 
to  me  as  if  thou  wert  still  here,  laboring  to  help  the  poor  whom 
thou  lovedst.  But  more  fruitful  ministries  are  thine,  where  thou 
art.  For  now  thou  seest  clearer,  now  thou  drawest  nearer  the  Son 
of  Man,  whom  thou  didst  love  above  all,  and  in  whose  foot-prints 
thou  didst  set  thy  steadfast  feet  in  these  dusty,  thorny,  stony  paths 
of  earth. 

Farewell  for  a  little  while!   As  in  the  Berlin  days  I  say, 

Ned,  auf  wiedcrsehen! 

Early  in  March  the  mother  writes  :  "We  all  went  in  force, 
the  Kloers  with  us,  to  hear  Ned  preach  in  the  American 
chapel.  His  sermon  was  not  written,  but  he  is  going  to 
write  it  out  from  recollection.  He  has  the  root  of  the  mat- 
ter in  him.  One  German  word  slipped  out — immcr — which 
raised  a  smile. 

"Ned  was  invited  yesterday  to  dine  at  Count  Harrach's, 
the  only  young  man  in  a  company  of  professors.  He  enjoyed 
it  very  much." 

March  3rd,  1872. 

1  have  received  an  invitation  from  a  German  pastor  in  the 
vicinity  of  Berlin  to  come  out  to  his  house,  on  Saturday,  and 
preach  for  him,  Sunday.  My  chief  diflficulty,  in  writing  the  ser- 
mon, has  been  in  guarding  against  too  great  abstractness.  My 


I04   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


studies  in  German  have  been  so  extensively  theoretical  and  ab- 
struse, that  I  feel  the  danger  there  more  than  in  English. 

March  i8th. 

On  Saturday  afternoon,  I  went  in  the  omnibus  to  Friedrichsfelde, 
where  I  was  welcomed  by  Pastor  Koch.  The  next  morning,  coflfee 
was  brought  to  my  room  at  seven.  At  nine  the  Pastor  ap- 
peared and  took  me  to  the  church,  which  was  built  in  the  thirteenth 
century,  and  long  used  by  the  Catholics.  He  assisted  me  in  donning 
the  robes,  the  little  white  slip  in  front,  and  the  long  black  mantle. 
Then  I  put  on  the  high  round  cap  and  we  went  to  the  sacristy, 
just  behind  the  church.  As  the  service  commenced,  he  went  out 
to  the  altar  and  conducted  the  liturgy.  Then  I  mounted  the  pul- 
pit and  preached  my  first  German  sermon  from  the  text,  "No 
servant  can  serve  two  masters."  I  learned  afterwards,  to  my  great 
satisfaction,  that  the  people  understood  me  very  well.  After  lunch 
we  rode  out  three  miles  to  Marzahn,  where  I  preached  again  to  a 
large  congregation,  the  majority  being  men,  a  thing  very  unusual 
in  Germany. 

The  days  went  by  only  too  rapidly,  and  in  the  spring  came 
the  time  for  separation.  Anna  was  to  continue  her  studies 
in  BerHn,  and  her  brother  was  fortunate  enough  to  find  a 
home  for  her  in  the  family  of  dear  Frau  Wilsing,  her  foster 
mother,  as  she  came  to  call  her.  But  before  the  parting  he 
took  her,  with  his  mother,  to  Dresden,  Leipzig  and  Halle. 

Dresden,  April  4th,  1872. 

Dear  Father: — 

The  Sistine  Madonna  grows  on  me  every  time  I 
come  back  to  it.  There  is  a  never  to  be  exhausted  depth  of  mean- 
ing, an  intense  worship,  which  never  fails  to  impress  me  deeply. 
I  can  hardly  realize  that  I  am  saying  good-bye  to  all  the  scenes 
with  which  I  have  been  familiar,  these  last  years.  It  is  very  hard 
to  part  with  my  friends.  How  do  such  occasions  lead  us  to 
transfer  our  hopes  and  aspirations  to  that  other  world,  where  all 
time  and  space  disappear,  and  perfect  union  with  God  and  with 
our  fellow  spirits  exists! 

At  Dresden,  the  three  were  a  part  of  the  time  guests  of  Dr. 
Jenkins,  the  American  dentist,  of  whose  hospitality  so 
many  of  his  countrymen  have  had  experience. 

From  Dresden  they  went  to  old  Leipzig,  so  full  of  mem- 
ories of  Meta,  dining  at  Baron  Tatichnitz's,  with  the  after- 
dinner  shaking  hands,  and  "gesegnetc  mahlzcW  all  around. 

Leipzig,  April  iith. 
We  have  just  returned  from  a  walk  in  the  Rosenthal,  where 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  105 


dear  Meta  used  to  be  so  often.  To-day,  we  go  to  Halle,  where  I 
say  good-bye  to  friends  and  to  Tholuck,  I  suppose,  for  the  last 
time. 

From  his  kind  interest  in  Edward,  Tholuck  had  invited 
him  to  bring  his  mother  to  his  house.  Well  do  I  remember 
my  walk  back  and  forth  with  him  in  his  garden,  when  he 
talked  of  my  son,  sayng  that  he  had  a  great  work  to  do  in 
America,  especially  in  writing  for  ethical  subjects. 

Later,  Edward  writes  : — 

It  was  SI  sad  American,  who  went  to  take  leave  of  the  beloved 
old  man.  The  professor  was  in  his  study.  He  calls  the  leave- 
taker  to  sit  down  beside  him  on  the  sofa.  Some  affectionate  in- 
quiries are  made,  a  few  words  of  love  and  cheer  spoken,  and  both 
rise.  The  professor  is  as  much  affected  as  the  student.  His  sweet 
spirit  glorifies  his  face.  Tears  are  in  his  eyes.  He  who  was  called 
the  last  of  the  Church  Fathers,  places  his  arm  fondly  about  his 
pupil,  stoops,  gives  the  paternal  kiss,  then  says, — "You  will  find 
Frau  Tholuck  in  the  parlor,  waiting  to  say  good-bye  to  you."  And 
the  door  closes  between  us. 

To  his  sister,  from  whom  we  parted  in  Halle,  Hanover, 
April  14th,  1872 :  "We  thought  and  talked  much  of  you  on 
our  ride  yesterday,  my  Darling.  I  knew  just  where  you 
would  sit  down  to  coffee,  and  think  of  us  all  the  time.  And 
I  had  confidence  that  you  would  summon  all  your  resolu- 
tions. We  had  a  delightful  ride  to  Magdeburg.  At  Brauns- 
weig  we  were  met  by  Prof.  Grove  and  his  wife,  Meta's 
friend,  Jennie  Claus,  whose  mother  is  with  her." 

Dear  Father: — 

This  is  my  last  day  in  Germany.  To-morrow,  we 
go  into  Holland,  and  the  land  which  has  been  a  second  home  to 
me,  and  which  has  become  dear  through  the  presence  of  loved 
ones,  and  through  the  rich  intercourse  with  men  of  science  it  has 
afforded,  is  again  to  become  a  far  distant  country,  yet  not  again 
an  unknown  land,  and  therefore  not  really  a  distant  one,  for  it  will 
ever  be  near  me  in  all  its  influences. 

Amsterdam,  April  16. 

Dear  Father: — 

Dorner  gave  me  a  card  to  Prof.  Osterzee,  of 
Utrecht,  and  when  there  I  did  not  fail  to  call  and  see  him  He 
is  a  very  lively,  animated  man  and  interested  himself  at  once  in 
my  plans,  giving  me  a  card  to  several  ministers.  He  spoke  of  the 
dilTerences  between  the  three  theological  faculties  in  Holland, 


lo6   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Leyden  being  the  seat  of  modernism,  as  that  is  called  which  takes 
the  place  of  the  old  Rationalism,  and  following  the  school  of  Bauer; 
Groenigen  being  also  inclined  the  same  way;  while  Utrecht 
is  the  centre  of  the  Evangelical  party.  In  Leyden,  there  are  about 
thirty;  in  Groenigen,  twenty,  but  in  Utrecht,  130  theological 
students.  There  are,  as  I  learn  from  others,  strictly  three  parties, 
the  Moderns,  the  extreme  Orthodox,  and  the  Evangelicals,  who 
are  more  in  the  middle.  Not  only  the  theologians,  but  the  people 
also  are  divided  in  this  strife. 

The  well-known  Amsterdam  bookseller,  Frederic  Miiller, 
to  whom  Edward  had  an  introduction,  invited  him  to  bring 
his  mother  to  lunch,  and  then  proposed  that  during  their  stay 
she  should  make  his  house  her  home,  while  her  son  should 
come  in  and  take  his  meals  with  them.  A  very  pleasant  ac- 
quaintance was  thus  formed  with  him  and  his  delightful  fam- 
ily, intercourse  with  whom  has  since  been  continued  by  cor- 
respondence and  subsequent  visits.  While  in  the  city,  Ed- 
ward was  glad  to  meet  the  translator  of  Dante,  Dr.  Hacke 
von  Myden,  at  whose  house  he  was  a  guest  at  a  very  elegant 
dinner.  Indeed,  the  stay  in  Amsterdam  was  full  of  interest, 
the  enjoyment  of  everything  being  enhanced  by  the  abound- 
ing hospitality  of  the  Miillers,  who  took  pains  that  there 
should  be  no  omission  in  sight-seeing.  At  the  Leyden  sta- 
tion were  directions  to  the  house  of  John  Robinson  signed 
by  Drs.  Dexter  and  Day,  and  of  course  it  was  visited.  It 
was  a  great  pleasure  to  pass  the  evening  at  Prof.  Kuenen's, 
and  to  be  invited  to  lunch  at  his  house  the  next  day.  The 
professor  took  us  over  the  university,  where  he  pointed  out 
a  remarkable  drawing  on  the  walls  by  a  mischievous  stu- 
dent, which,  for  its  cleverness,  was  allowed  to  remain,  and 
of  which  he  gave  us  a  lithograph. 

Brussels,  April  20th,  1872. 

My  Dear  Father: — 

We  have  been  travelling  more  rapidly  than 
we  had  planned,  and  shall  reach  Paris  by  to-morrow  night.  It 
has  given  me  double  pleasure  to  enjoy  the  great  pictures  of 
Rubens  with  mother.  She  had  not  appreciated  him  before,  be- 
cause in  most  of  the  German  galleries  there  are  hardly  more  than 
sketches,  and  unfinished  pictures  of  his. 

Paris,  May  6th. 

We  are  luxuriating  in  the  Louvre  where  we  go  almost  every 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  107 

day.  The  city  is  much  the  same  as  before  the  war.  A  few  of  the 
chief  buildings,  such  as  the  Tuilleries  and  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  stand 
there,  a  mass  of  ruins,  but  otherwise  life  is  as  gay  and  the  city 
as  beautiful  as  ever. 

May  15th. 

M.  Coqueril  sent  us  tickets  for  the  Assembly  at  Versailles,  so, 
yesterday,  we  went  out  there.  There  was  all  the  noise  and  ob- 
streperousness  of  a  French  Assembly.  We  saw  Jules  Favre,  the 
two  princes  of  Orleans,  Grevy,  etc.,  and  heard  Choiseul,  M. 
Remusat,  and  Rouher  speak.  Unfortunately,  Gambetta  was  not 
there.  No  one  here  knows  anything  about  the  duration  of  the 
government,  or  what  will  come  after  it.  I  like  Paris  very  much, 
yet  should  not  care  to  live  here.  It  is  too  restless,  and  much  as 
I  enjoy  the  vivacity  and  politeness  of  the  French,  I  am  confident 
it  would  not  please  me  in  the  long  run  as  much  as  the  less  showy, 
but  deeper  German  character. 

We  did  much  of  our  sight-seeing  on  foot,  leaving  our 

lodgings  after  an  early  and  light  continental  breakfast,  and 
taking  our  lunch  wherever  we  happened  to  find  ourselves. 
It  was  one  of  our  rules  not  to  pass  by  any  cathedral  or  im- 
portant public  building  unvisited.  As  swelling  of  the  feet  is 
often  a  sequence  of  perpetual  tramping,  I  suffered  much 
from  this  discomfort.  But,  being  a  firm  believer  in  hydro- 
pathy, I  was  not  slow  to  apply  the  remedy.  Whenever, 
therefore,  Edward  stopped  on  the  sidewalk  to  consult  his 
Baedecker,  I  would  step  into  the  sewer,  standing  in  its  pro- 
verbially clean  water  till  my  feet  were  thoroughly  soaked. 
More  than  once  I  should  have  been  arrested  as  an  escaped 
lunatic  had  not  Edward  saved  me  from  such  a  disaster.  Thus 
it  was  that,  day  after  day,  I  was  able  to  accompany  him. 

In  London,  Edward  sotight  out  an  Englishman,  a  Mr. 
Ford,  with  whom  he  had  walked  a  good  deal  in  Switzer- 
land the  previous  summer.  He  writes  his  father:  "Mr. 
Ford  is  the  secretary  of  a  society  which  is  the  general  union 
of  most  of  the  philanthropic  societies  in  London,  and  in  that 
way  I  have  seen  much  of  what  is  being  done  for  the  poor. 
Through  him,  I  became  acquainted  with  a  gentleman  who 
for  twenty  years  has  devoted  himself  to  work  among  fallen 
women.  He  has  established  six  homes  for  them,  each  of 
which  accommodates  twenty-five  or  thirty,  and  has  carried 


lo8    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


on  with  others,  for  five  years,  the  work  of  the  midnight 
mission.  Last  year  188  women  were  takfn  to  the  homes  as 
a  result  of  this  work.  I  attended  several  of  these  midnight 
meetings."   At  one  of  them  he  writes : — 

Tables  were  spread  and  after  I  had  said  grace,  we  passed  tea 
and  bread  and  butter,  two  of  the  women  being  just  tipsy  enough 
to  be  noisy.  This  was  followed  by  an  address,  singing  and  prayers. 
Most  of  them  were  quiet,  some  of  them  wept,  while  three  or  four 
talked  and  laughed.  I  was  moved  to  say  a  few  words  to  which 
they  listened,  although  the  tipsy  ones  kept  breaking  in  with  all  sorts 
of  remarks.  I  finally  succeeded,  however,  in  gaining  their  atten- 
tion till  the  close.  But  it  was  my  first  experience  of  the  kind,, 
and  I  trembled  all  over.  Oh,  the  misery  and  the  woe  of  such  a 
life! — and  these  women,  our  sisters!  As  they  were  leaving,  all  whO' 
were  disposed  to  lead  a  new  life  were  invited  to  go  at  once  to  the 
homes.  One  girl  that  I  spoke  with,  and  who  seemed  much 
affected,  told  me  that  she  had  a  mother  who  was  sick  at  home,  and 
also  a  child,  and  that  she  couldn't  leave  them.  She  admitted,  how- 
ever, that  her  mother  could  go  to  the  hospital,  and  finally  prom- 
ised to  call  at  one  of  the  homes  and  make  inquiries.  "I  am  much 
obliged  to  the  gentlemen  for  their  kindness,"  said  another  woman. 
I  reached  home  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Many  delightful  visits  we  made,  at  the  Thallons',  who  had 
removed  to  London;  at  Sarkis  Minasian's,  Brixton  Rise;  at 
Rev.  Dr.  Raleigh's,  Arran  House;  at  Dr.  Coffin's,  Cornwall 
Gardens ;  at  Rev.  Dr.  Bailey's,  Kensington  Road ;  at  Mr. 
Campbell's,  at  the  head  of  the  Blind  Asylum,  near  the  Crys- 
tal Palace ;  at  Mr.  William  Tebb's,  an  earnest  writer  and 
worker  against  compulsory  vaccination ;  at  Mr.  Glover's,. 
Allendale ;  at  S.  C.  Hall's,  founder  of  the  Art  Journal,  and  a 
great  spiritualist :  all  interesting  people,  their  wives  emphat- 
ically included.  We  heard  several  of  the  great  preachers  of 
the  city,  but  there  were  none  whom  we  enjoyed  more,  or 
found  more  spiritual,  than  Rev.  James  Martineau.  And  we 
had  the  pleasure  of  spending  a  delightful  evening  at  his 
house.  We  had  also  the  great  satisfaction  of  hearing  George 
MacDonald  preach.  Of  this,  Edward  writes  his  father: 
"His  text  was  Jeremiah  9 :  23-24.  He  spoke  without  notes 
very  readily  and  earnestly.  Among  other  things,  he  said  r 
'God's  justice  consists  in  letting  every  man  have  fair  play. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  IO9 


and  in  answering  all  the  claims  he  can  have  upon  him.  He 
•does  for  every  man  all  he  possibly  can.  And  it  is  his  very 
love  which,  when  rejected,  becomes  the  torment  of  man.'  " 
Later,  Edward  writes  : — 

Mother  and  I  went,  by  invitation,  to  spend  Saturday  evening 
with  the  MacDonalds.  His  house,  called  The  Retreat,  is  on  the 
left  bank  of  the  Thames,  only  separated  from  the  river  by  the 
mall  in  front.  We  were  taken  into  the  parlor,  where  was  Mrs. 
MacDonald,  surrounded  by  her  daughters  and  two  Italian  ladies. 
Then  I  went  with  him  into  his  study,  where  we  talked  of  almost 
everything.  He  told  me  of  Miss  Octavia  Hill,  who  buys  houses 
and  lets  them  to  the  poor.  For  one  house  in  a  ruinous  condition, 
owned  by  an  undertaker,  an  enormous  price  was  asked.  She  re- 
monstrated, saying  he  could  never  get  the  money.  "Ah,  madam, 
it's  not  so  much  the  house  as  the  funerals  that's  worth  to  us." 
She  replied  that,  if  he  did  not  sell  it  at  her  price,  she  would  com- 
pel him  to  have  it  repaired.  Of  course,  he  sold  it.  Mr.  MacDonald 
does  not  believe  much  in  societies,  though  his  loving  spirit  re- 
jects nothing  that  is  the  result  of  necessity.  I  said,  "Individuals 
die,  and  societies  do  not."   "Yes,  but  societies  rot." 

That  Edward  sought  information  in  all  directions,  the 
following  note  from  a  London  gentleman,  dated  200  Easton 
Road,  is  in  evidence:  "My  Dear  Sir, — I  have  ascertained 
that  next  Sunday  morning  a  discussion  will  be  held  on 
Christianity  between  a  Christian  and  an  Atheist.  The  Chris- 
tian advocate,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  is  not  a  good  speaker ;  the 
Atheist  is  a  young  man  with  whom  I  debated  two  Sundays 
on  the  existence  of  God.  I  shall  be  happy  to  visit  with  you 
a  few  of  the  lower  and  more  needy  parts  of  London.  I  shall 
be  glad  if  you  can  meet  me  at  Portland  Road  Railway  Sta- 
tion, Easton  Road,  at  eleven  o'clock." 

London,  July  5th,  1872. 
Yesterday,  we  had  a  grand  fourth  of  July  picnic,  fifteen  of  us,  Eng- 
lish, American  and  Scotch,  taking  our  lunch  under  the  trees  in 
the  park.  Night  before  last,  I  attended  the  opening  of  the  Prison 
Congress,  and  heard  speeches  from  French,  German,  English  and 
American  representatives. 

Edward's  mother  writes  :  "Ned  is  a  remarkable  traveller 
to  acquire  information.  He  very  soon  gets  the  lay  of  any 
•city.   Then  he  has  a  habit  of  prowling  about  by  night,  to 


no   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


see  w  hat  he  can  see.  Last  night  he  went  on  the  rampage  till 
almost  midnight." 

July  9th. 

Dear  Anna: — 

We  have  all  been  attending  a  Woman's  Congress, 
arranged  by  Mrs.  Julia  Ward  Howe.  She  is  a  fine  woman,  the  best 
specimen  of  a  Woman's  Rights  woman  that  I  have  ever  seen. 
On  Sunday  she  gave  an  excellent  sermon  on  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  (This  was  more  than  twenty  years  ago,  when  such  women 
had  much  to  encounter.) 

July  isth,  1872. 

Dear  Father: — 

.  .  .  We  had  a  very  pleasant  run  up  to  Oxford, 
and  visited,  among  other  things,  the  English  monks  in  their  Mis- 
sion House.  Their  work  consists  in  conducting  retreats  and 
missions.  A  retreat,  according  to  Father  Prescott,  is  a  "prayer- 
meeting  conducted  scientifically."  Their  retreats  attract  numbers 
of  clergymen,  who  spend  four  or  five  days  in  silent  devotion,  one 
of  their  own  number  conducting  the  services.  Their  missions 
are  held  in  various  places,  and  extend  to  ten  or  twelve  days. 
They  go  out  by  twos  and  preach  in  the  churches  and  the  streets. 
These  two  have  preached  a  hundred  times  in  ten  days.  Mother 
and  I  wandered  about  in  the  old  quadrangles,  under  the  shadow 
of  the  ancient  buildings,  which  have  brought  forth  so  many  noble 
men,  and  found  ourselves  in  another  world.  It  took  me  back  to 
my  own  happy  college  days.  A  little  more  than  three  years  and 
three  months  ago,  I  left  Edinburgh  for  Rotterdam,  on  my  way 
to  Germany,  and  now  I  have  completed  the  circuit.  I  trust  that 
I  am  in  some  degree  better  fitted  for  my  great  work.  Very  re- 
gretfully I  look  back  on  opportunities  neglected  and  failures  I 
have  made.  Yet  I  trust  I  have  gained  ground,  that  I  have  great- 
er earnestness  for  my  work,  and  I  believe  a  clearer  perception  of 
its  needs.  I  should  like  to  begin  preaching  as  soon  as  possible, 
and  should  be  glad  to  stand  in  your  old  pulpit. 

Father,  do  you  think  that  the  soundest  doctrines  and  the 
greatest  earnestness  of  purpose  can  ensure  ministers  from  falling 
into  a  groove,  where  they  grind  out  sermons  and  addresses,  year 
after  year,  as  from  a  mill  ?  I  have  thought  of  this  when  hearing 
some  of  the  old  established  ministers  here  and  in  Germany.  Is 
there  anything  in  the  Presbyterian  Synodical  system  which  tends 
to  this? — which  leads  men  to  insist  more  on  soundness  than  depth, 
upon  words  than  spirit?  And  what  is  the  consequence?  People 
do  or  say  something  because  it  is  expected  of  them,  rather  than 
because  they  are  prompted  to  it  by  a  divine  impulse. 

July  15th. 

We  have  been  making  a  short  but  very  pleasant  trip  among  the 
English  lakes.  The  homes  of  the  lake-poets  are  enriched,  not  only 
by  nature,  but  by  association.  Wordsworth,  Southey,  Coleridge, 
De  Quincey,  have  all  named  many  spots.    It  is  a  miniature  Switzer- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


Ill 


land,  leaving  out  the  glaciers — with  mountains,  lakes  and  valleys, 
and  even  a  glimpse  of  the  sea. 

Inverness.  Mother  travels  about  the  country  with  only  such  ad- 
ditional clothing  as  can  be  carried  on  her  son's  back.  In  the 
Scotch  Highlands  she  twice  walked  eighteen  miles  a  day  with  me. 
We  have  had  all  our  aristocratic  notions  knocked  out  of  us,  by 
sleeping  in  thatched  huts  or  Scotch  shealings,  on  chests  or  tables, 
I,  at  least.  We  walked  through  the  Trosachs,  and  passed  over 
Loch  Katrine  and  Ellen's  Isle,  but  saw  neither  lady  nor  lover  there. 
They  are  not  so  kind  here  as  in  Switzerland,  where  they  have 
learned  to  supply  what  is  needed,  giving  you  torches  when  the 
sun  fails,  and  outshining  the  moon  with  the  glory  of  fire-worked 
falls.  .  .  I  think  it  a  privilege  to  be  born  an  American,  but  I 
don't  know  who  ought  to  be  the  next  president.  To-morrow,  we 
are  going  through  the  land  on  water,  which  is  not  what  every 
one  does. 

Edinburgh,  Aug.  30th,  1872. 
We  are  in  the  Boston  of  Scotland,  and  certainly  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  cities  in  the  world.  We  have  become  acquainted  with  Mrs. 
Wigham,  a  charming  Quaker  lady,  and  her  daughter,  who  is  often 
called  Saint  Eliza.  They  have  been  connected  with  all  anti-slavery 
movements,  and  are  special  friends  of  Lloyd  Garrison.  They 
are  now  working  for  woman's  franchise,  and  for  the  repeal  of  the 
Contagious  Diseases  Act. 

We  made  many  pleasant  acquaintances  in  Edinburgh,  the 
Fergusons  of  Portobello,  and  through  them  with  the  Knox- 
es  and  Wellstoods.  We  also  visited  at  the  Coldstreams, 
Miss  Abercrombie's  and  Mr.  Hjaltahn's.  By  special  re- 
quest, Edward  preached  in  one  of  the  churches  to  a  com- 
pany of  soldiers,  and  in  his  usual  fashion  we  went  every- 
where, studying  the  social  questions  of  the  city. 

Of  a  very  interesting  outing,  he  writes  his  father : — 

We  took  a  trip  to  Ballahulish,  Glencoe,  Oban,  Staf¥a  and  lona 
in  the  Pioneer.  Sailed  along  the  coast  of  Mull,  past  Tobermohy, 
round  into  the  Atlantic,  reaching  StafTa  at  one.  It  rises  like  a 
huge  boulder  out  of  the  sea,  and  is  on  all  sides  indented  by  the 
gnawing  tooth  of  ocean.  We  rounded  a  point  and  saw  the  cele- 
brated Fingal's  cave  (not  Fin-gulls,  as  some  one  supposed,  look- 
ing for  the  gulls.)  It  seemed  a  vast  temple  cast  up  there  by  nature 
for  those  who  wished  to  worship  the  unseen  God.  No  idol  stood 
within.  It  was  empty,  save  for  the  swelling  wave,  which  slowly, 
solemnly  coursed  in,  and  rebounded  with  a  low,  murmuring  music, 
moving  softly  through  the  turnings  of  the  cave,  as  if  it  were 
pealed  forth  from  an  organ.  The  ocean's  sweetest,  grandest  music 
was  rendered  tender  by  the  awe  of  the  place.  The  entrance  is 
tinged  with  orange,  yellow  and  crimson,  but  all  within  it  of  a  deep 


112    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


hue,  the  brightest  being  the  clear  green  of  the  water.  This  cave 
is  of  the  pure  church  architecture,  the  columns  thin,  straight, 
simple,  without  capitals  or  pediment.  It  was  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  sights  I  ever  saw.  We  were  landed  in  boats  from  the 
steamer,  and  spent  half  an  hour  in  wandering  about.  From  Staffa 
we  went  to  lona.  Here  are  the  ruins  of  a  chapel,  nunnery  and 
cathedral,  built  hundreds  of  years  ago,  lona  being  one  of  the  first 
places  in  Britain  where  Christianity  was  introduced. 


CHAPTER  X. 


MARBLEHEAD,  NEW  HAVEN  AND  CHAMPLAIN. 

Be  every  purpose  high,  sincere  and  pure ; 
Serve  with  thy  might  and  God  will  do  the  rest. 
Whoso  toils  truly,  surely  shall  he  reap. 

— James  Buckham. 

Early  in  the  fall,  the  son  and  his  mother  embarked  in 
the  Trinacria,  an  Anchor  Line  steamer.  As  Edward  was 
the  only  clergyman  on  board,  the  daily  and  Sunday  relig- 
ious services  devolved  on  him.  A  fellow-passenger,  after  a 
brief  sickness,  died  of  delirium  tremens,  and  the  sad  task  of 
conducting  his  funeral  was  one  of  Edward's  first  ministerial 
experiences,  and  took  strong  hold  of  him. 

Sept.  19th,  1872. 

In  New  York  at  last,  and  darling  Florence  at  my  side.  And  now 
soon  for  home  and  the  dear  father. 

As  both  father  and  son  wrote  at  a  standing  desk,  an  ad- 
ditional desk  for  Edward  was  provided  in  the  same  room 
at  Linden  Home. 

From  his  journal : — 

In  the  morning:,  after  gymnastics,  I  write  sermons.  After  din- 
ner, I  read  Homiletics  till  dark,  and  then  take  a  long  walk.  In 
the  evening,  mother  reads  aloud  to  us  in  Lecky's  History  of  Morals, 
or  James  Martineau's  Sermons,  and  for  light  reading,  Our  Mutual 
Friend.  Father  is  also  reading  to  me  his  Lowell  Lectures  on 
"Providence  in  History." 

Edward  preached  for  his  father  and  assisted  him  in  other 
ways.  And  a  few  times  he  supplied  the  pulpits  of  neigh- 
boring churches,  in  the  absence  of  the  pastor.  Among 
those  who  heard  him  was  Mr.  Richard  Palmer  Waters. 
Mr.  Waters  was  the  first  American  Consul  to  Zanzibar,  be- 
ing appointed  by  Gen.  Jackson.  On  his  return  to  America, 
he  bought  Cherry  Hill,  in  Beverly,  and  lived  there  till  his 


114   REMLYISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

death,  in  1887.  He  writes  Edward's  mother:  "He  only 
needs  to  be  heard  to  attract  attention  and  be  sought  for 
some  of  our  best  pulpits.  Here  is  where  he  belongs." 

Mr.  Waters  did  not  understand  how  much  Edward  pre- 
ferred a  different  kind  of  pulpit.  But  his  warm  interest  in 
him  was  gratifying.  Writes  a  niece :  "My  uncle  was  very 
much  attracted  to  your  son,  and  never  quite  satisfied  at  not 
having  him  in  New  England.  He  had  just  the  traits  that 
he  appreciated  and  admired  in  a  young  minister,  and  he 
was  never  tired  of  praising  him.  How  much  indeed  he 
was  to  every  one  who  knew  him,  and  what  a  memorial  he 
has  left !" 

At  one  of  the  Essex  South  Associations,  which  he  attend- 
ed with  his  father,  he  met  Rev.  James  M.  Whiton,  the  well- 
known  writer,  at  that  time  a  pastor  in  Lynn.  The  following 
is  an  extract  from  a  letter  by  him : — 

Mr.  Lawrence  was  one  of  those  to  my  rare  meetings  with 
whom  I  looked  forward  with  assurance  both  of  mental  stimulus 
and  of  social  cheer.  A  passing  remark  of  his  in  our  first  inter- 
view has  remained  with  me  as  an  influential  thought.  I  remember 
the  tonic  cheerfulness  of  his  conversation  in  my  last  interview 
with  him.  The  strong  enthusiasm,  the  tender  sympathy,  the  bal- 
anced mind,  the  broad  culture,  the  ripe  thought,  which  made  us 
feel  him  greatly  needed  here,  assure  me  that  the  wheat  has  not 
been  thus  early  gathered  into  the  garner,  but  for  the  needs  of 
the  life  beyond. 

The  following  letter  is  from  Miss  Sarah  Tracy  of  Bever- 
ly:- 

I  think  I  first  saw  your  son  at  Salem,  in  a  music  room,  where 
he  was  waiting  with  his  sister  and  yourself.  I  was  not  then  ac- 
quainted with  any  of  you,  but  I  noticed  a  sweet  graciousness  of 
bearing  toward  his  mother  and  sister  which  has  never  passed  out 
of  memory. 

I  saw  him  next,  when,  near  the  commencement  of  his  ministry, 
he  preached  in  our  church.  That  service  deeply  impressed  us  all. 
And  we  were  so  fortunate  as  to  entertain  him  at  our  home.  Since 
then,  he  has  been  several  times  with  us,  and  always  left  an  impres- 
sion of  likeness  to  his  Master. 

Early  in  the  spring  came  a  call  to  be  tutor  in  German  for 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


"5 


a  year  in  Yale,  to  supply  the  place  of  Prof.  Carter  during  his 
absence  in  Europe.   This  he  thought  it  best  to  accept. 

208  Elm  St.,  New  Haven,  March  15th,  1873, 
Robert  Hume  is  coming  here  to  attend  Beecher's  lectures.  I 
have   just   finished    Lecky's    History   of   Rationalisnij    with  Will 
Wood.    It  is  not  equal  to  the  History  of  Morals,  though  very  fine 
in  many  ways. 

During  the  winter  vacation,  Edward  made  a  visit  in 
Champlain  to  friends  with  whom  he  had  become  acquaint- 
ed in  Berlin.  And  while  there  he  supplied  the  pulpit  for 
Sunday.  After  his  return  he  received  a  call  from  Cham- 
plain,  which  he  declined,  not  only  because  he  was  engaged 
through  the  year  as  tutor,  but  also  because  it  was  his  pur- 
pose to  be  a  pastor  at  the  West.  But  the  Champlain  peo- 
ple were  willing  to  wait  till  he  was  free,  and  urged  his  com- 
ing to  them  then,  even  if  only  for  a  year. 

New  Haven,  May  iith,  1873. 
I  feel  convinced  that  I  should  never  be  satisfied  with  a  life  of 
teaching,  unless  I  had  leisure  to  labor  on  original  and  systematic 
studies,  which  at  the  same  time  I  could  bring  to  bear  upon  those 
around  me.  And  the  ministry,  I  think,  affords  the  best  opportun- 
ity for  the  combination.  .  .  Mrs.  Hume  moves  into  her  house 
this  week.    I  was  there,  yesterday,  helping  them  put  down  carpets. 

May  25th. 

This  has  been  a  busy  week,  as  we  have  had  hard  faculty  work 
on  hand.  Tuesday  evening.  Junior  elections  were  given  out,  and 
two  spreads  were  discovered  by  the  tutors,  at  one  of  which  a  num- 
ber were  more  or  less  intoxicated.  They  were  all  called  up  and 
examined  by  the  faculty,  and  finally  one  was  dropped,  four 
suspended, — (not  hanged  by  the  neck  till  they  were  dead,) — and 
six  heavily  marked  and  warned  with  letters  home.  The  one 
dropped,  and  two  of  those  suspended  were  in  my  division,  and  I 
was  obliged  to  inform  their  parents  of  the  fact.  .  .  Recitations 
close  here  next  week.  But  it  will  hardly  be  possible  for  me  to 
get  away  before  Thursday,  not  even  to  attend  Alf  Myers's  wedding, 
vi'hich  comes  on  Tuesday. 

The  call  from  Champlain  was  still  urged.  Writes  a 
member  of  the  Committee.  "But  one  opinion  has  been  ex- 
pressed among  our  people — 'We  cannot  give  the  matter  up 
without  one  more  effort  to  induce  Mr.  Lawrence  to  come 
to  us  for  a  longer  or  shorter  time.'  " 


Il6    REMINISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AXD  WORK 


As  they  had  considerately  waited  till  his  year  at  Yale  was 
through,  he  consented  to  go,  and  had  abundant  reason  to 
be  satisfied  with  his  reception.  But  as  he  was  desirous  to 
make  a  \\'estern  trip  before  he  settled  down  to  the  new 
work,  his  father  gladly  supplied  his  place  during  his  ab- 
sence. 

On  June  8th,  1873,  Edward  writes: 

Dear  Mother: — 

Here  I  am  in  the  very  last  house  in  Chicago.  On 
one  side  is  the  strong,  lion-hearted  city,  iron,  stone  and  brick- 
ribbed,  pushing  aside  the  soot  and  rubbish  of  its  ruins,  and  swiftly, 
steadily  rising  again  in  strength,  fulfilling  the  fable  of  Antaeus. 
On  the  other  side  is  the  wide,  flat,  green  prairie,  only  waiting 
for  the  time  when  its  limits  will  be  still  farther  encroached  on.  .  . 
I  went,  Sunday  morning,  to  hear  Prof.  Swing  in  the  McVicar 
theatre,  which  was  packed.  He  is  thoughtful,  keen,  earnest, 
preaches  religion  of  the  heart,  is  a  little  vague,  but  rich  and  il- 
lustrative, attracts  by  his  thought,  has  no  graces  of  oratory  and 
no  tricks,  impresses  the  emotions  of  the  life,  not  those  of  the 
momeTlt.  With  time,  he  might  need  a  little  more  back-bone,  if 
his  sermon  to-day  was  a  sample.  He  is  undoubtedly  a  remarkable 
man,  and  is  doing  much  good.  .  .  I  reached  Quincy  at  ten 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  with  some  difficulty  found  Mr.  Dicker- 
man,  who  had  just  gone  to  bed.  He  was  up  at  once,  however, 
and  the  next  day  we  drove  and  walked  all  around  the  town.  He 
will  have  a  beautiful  church  when  it  is  completed,  and  the  people 
seem  warm-hearted  and  enthusiastic. 

Lincoln,  Nebraska,  June  17th. 
Some  wnzard  stretched  out  a  hand  over  these  beautiful,  rolling 
prairies,  and  forth  came  a  city,  all  complete,  the  capital  of  the  state. 
It  is  only  five  years  old,  yet  has  7,000  inhabitants,  a  capitol,  a 
university,  an  opera  house,  an  insane  asylum,  a  penitentiary, 
thirteen  churches,  three  large  hotels  and  many  small  ones,  a  $50,000 
school-house,  and  other  things  in  proportion.  I  cannot  get  over 
my  amazement  at  the  place  which  has  shot,  not  grown  up,  here. 
I  had  a  very  pleasant  audience,  yesterday,  and  never  felt  more 
like  work.  The  people  are  cultivated,  warm-hearted  and  earnest. 
The  state  is  incalculably  rich  in  all  things  except  timber,  and  that 
can  be  supplied  in  a  few  years,  as  trees  grow  rapidly.  They  have 
the  grand,  billowy,  waving  prairies,  watered  by  gentle  creeks, 
swept  over  by  luscious  breezes;  sometimes,  too,  by  storms  and 
tempests. 

June  20th.  1873. 

I  left  Lincoln  and  Omaha,  after  three  of  the  most  singular  days 
of  my  life,  and  have  not  yet  fairly  recovered  from  my  amazement. 
The  chief  sight  at  Omaha  is  the  High-School  house,  the  finest 
building  of  the  kind   in  .A.merica.    It   stands  at   the  top  of  the 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


117 


bluffs  of  the  river,  commanding  a  superb  view  over  the  central  part 
of  our  continent.  Beneath  lie  fertile  fields,  waving  off  like  the 
swell  of  the  ocean.  Cutting  its  way  deep  down  through  these 
billows,  flows  the  broad  Missouri.  On  various  sides,  straight 
lines  drawn  over  the  country  mark  the  railroads  which  converge 
at  this  point,  and  the  scattered,  unfinished,  but  throbbing  streets 
tell  the  tale  of  business  enterprise  and  audacity.  So  high  was  I 
elevated,  that  I  almost  expected  to  see  the  two  opposite  oceans 
sparkling  in  the  sun. 

Although  the  Champlain  church  is  Congregational,  yet 
as  it  included  Presbyterians,  Congregationalists  and  Bap- 
tists, my  son  used  playfully  to  call  it  aPresby-gational-aptist 
church.  It  had  been  arranged  that  soon  after  his  return  he 
should  be  ordained.  And  his  father  was  to  preach  the 
sermon.  Writes  Mr.  Stetson,  a  prominent  church 
member: — 

As  there  were  so  few  Congregational  churches  in  that  part  of  the 
state,  his  ordination  took  place  at  St.  Albans,  Vermont,  and  I  had 
the  pleasure  of  making  one  of  the  party  of  friends  who  went  with 
him  from  Champlain,  for  the  examination  and  the  ordination. 
One  of  the  central  figures  in  my  memory  of  that  occasion  is  the 
sainted  father  of  our  young  friend,  who  had  already  gained  a 
warm  place  in  our  hearts.  It  was  a  beautiful  picture, —  that  of  the 
venerable  man  with  his  loving  ways,  contrasted  with  the  young, 
bounding  life  of  his  namesake,  so  full  of  strength  and  vigor.  The 
one  with  the  wisdom  of  mature  years,  shedding  a  halo  upon  the 
other,  with  a  knowledge  above  his  years,  just  setting  forth  upon  a 
career  full  of  promise. 

"What  a  difiference,"  Edward  writes,  "between  preaching 
to  strangers  and  my  own  people  ! — for  I  already  regard  them 
as  such.  I  can  hardly  realize  that  I  am  settled  down  to  my 
life-work,  and  feel  awed  to  think  of  it.  I  have  never  seen 
any  one  die,  yet  may  at  any  moment  be  called  to  a  death- 
bed. I  never  felt,  as  now,  the  need  of  seeking  daily  help 
from  God." 

July  28th,  1873. 

I  enjoy  it  here  in  every  way.  It  is  a  kind  of  idyllic  life  in  many 
respects,  save  for  the  ugly  sins  of  the  place.  If  my  eyes  improve, 
I  shall  know  of  no  hindrance  in  my  work.  I  am  often  greatly 
pleased,  dear  father,  to  hear  how  the  people  speak  of  you.  In  a 
short  time  you  sowed  much  good  seed. 

Champlain,  Aug  31st. 
The  concert,  last  night,  was  a  great  success.     The  subject  was 


Il8    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


The  Cross  and  the  Crown,  and  on  the  marble  table  was  a  cross 
and  also  a  crown,  prepared  by  Miss  Hoyle.  The  children,  as  they 
repeated  the  verses,  brought  up  their  bouquets,  where  they  were 
so  arranged  that  at  the  end  we  had  a  beautiful  crown  of  flowers 
almost  concealing  the  cross.  Some  of  the  little  girls  sang  a  sweet 
song,  others  repeated  poetry,  and  Miss  Dewey  recited  "The 
Changed  Cross."  Then  I  spoke  on  the  same  subject,  and  the  con- 
cert was  closed  with  singing, — "Must  Jesus  bear  the  cross  alone?" 

Edward  spent  a  few  pleasant  weeks  in  the  family  of  Mr. 
Hoyle,  of  whom  mention  has  been  made,  and  then  removed 
to  Mr.  Cooke's,  at  some  little  distance  from  the  church, 
which  led  him  to  call  it  Nebraska.  He  very  soon  formed 
an  acquaintance  with  Rev.  and  Mrs.  Francis  B.  Hall,  of 
Plattsburg,  which  acquaintance  gradually  grew  into  an  in- 
timate and  life-long  friendship. 

I  must  tell  you  about  Willie  Stetson.  It  was  Communion 
season,  yesterday,  and  he  had  never  been  present  before.  When 
the  bread  was  passed  around  and  he  saw  every  one  bow  the  head, 
he  thought  they  were  all  crying.  He  stood  it  as  long  as  he  could, 
but  when  his  aunt  followed  the  others,  it  was  more  than  he  could 
endure,  and  the  poor  little  fellow  broke  out  into  bitter  sobs,  which 
were  heard  all  through  the  church.  It  was  a  pure  case  of  sym- 
pathy. 

You  ask  about  my  evenings.  Besides  the  regular  meetings  I 
have  a  class,  on  Monday  evening,  of  beginners  in  German.  On 
Wednesday  evening,  after  the  prayer-meeting,  comes  an  advanced 
German  class.  They  are  reading  Werther,  and  I  always  think  of 
you  in  that  connection. 

I  feel  a  great  benefit  from  my  way  of  preaching  one  written  and 
one  extempore  sermon.  If  the  written  sermon  is  intellectual  and 
above  the  heads  of  some,  the  extempore  one  is  always  plain  and 
practical.  And  if  the  latter  is  less  developed,  the  former  keeps 
up  the  habit  of  steady  thinking  and  careful  writing. 

Edward  at  once  commenced  his  walks.  Having  occa- 
sion to  call  at  a  certain  time  on  friends  at  Chazy,  eight 
miles  distant,  he  set  forth  on  a  squally  day.  "I  had  a  fine, 
rapid  walk,  in  the  course  of  which  it  blew  and  snezv,  and 
rained  more  or  less.  After  an  old-fashioned  visit,  I  returned 
in  the  same  way,  and  found  many  quite  disturbed  at  my 
walking  sixteen  miles  in  such  a  day." 

Writes  Mrs.  Stetson,  one  of  the  "Nebraska"  family: — 

Mr.  Lawrence  was  so  full  of  life  and  strength  that  it  was  a  great 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


119 


pleasure  to  him  to  take  long  walks,  scorning  roads  that  were 
smooth  and  easy,  scorning  distance  as  well,  but  tramping  in  every 
direction  and  making  himself  acquainted  with  every  situation  and 
almost  with  everybody  in  our  locality.  The  finest  points  of  ob- 
servation were  soon  known  to  him,  the  finest  views  were  noted  by 
his  quick  eye,  and  stored  in  his  memory,  to  be  brought  out  in  de- 
lightful intercourse  with  his  many  friends. 

One  of  the  bright  spots  we  remember  so  well,  was  the  Sunday 
evening  lunch.  It  was  the  custom  in  Champlain  to  have  lunch  on 
that  day,  after  the  evening  service.  Then,  with  the  family  circle 
broadened  to  include  the  married  members,  an  exceedingly  pleasant 
relaxation  was  had  in  social  intercourse,  occasions  which  Mr.  Law- 
rence seemed  greatly  to  enjoy. 

Champlain,  Oct.  26,  1873. 

It  is  hard  not  to  think  of  yourself — to  be  discouraged  if  you  fail — 
and  if  you  have  written  anything  tolerably  well  to  feel  self-gratula- 
tion.  I  want  to  know  my  powers  and  how  to  use  them,  as  I 
would  use  sharp  instruments,  but  not  to  feel  exalted  if  they  cut 
well.  For  one  thing,  I  am  painfully  conscious  of  my  own  de- 
ficiencies, and  I  do  try  to  keep  the  end  steadily  before  me.  I 
cannot  have  anywhere  a  higher  work  than  here,  and  should  not 
feel  as  if  I  were  going  higher  by  entering  a  broader  field. 

I  can  easily  see  how  a  young  man's  head  might  be  turned  by  the 
foolish  remarks  of  people,  if  he  does  not  estimate  things  at  their 
true  value.  I  try  to  keep  my  standard  before  my  eyes,  and  to  go 
my  way  unaffected  by  what  people  say.  I  do  want  to  use  every 
power  for  Christ. 

Dec.  1st,  1873. 

It  is  twenty-eight  degrees  below  zero,  but  I  am  warmly  dressed 
and  happy  in  my  work,  except  as  I  get  down  into  people's  sor- 
rows and  dark  corners,  and  the  skeletons  that  haunt  them  become 
visible.  This  sometimes  makes  me  very  miserable,  more  so  than 
any  sorrows  of  my  own.  .  .  As  I  often  do  a  little  mending  for 
myself,  I  should  like  to  have  you  send  me  several  needles,  buttons, 
and  two  kinds  of  black  and  white  thread,  and  also  black  silk. 

Dec.  2ist. 

The  ladies  have  been  busy  at  work,  trimming  the  church  for 
Christmas.  Some  came,  asking  permission  to  finish  it,  if  neces- 
sary, on  Sunday  morning.  I  told  them  I  was  not  a  priest  to  grant 
an  indulgence.  I  remained  working  with  them  to  the  last,  and 
it  was  finished  by  half-past  ten  in  the  evening. 

Dec.  28th,  1873. 

Dear  Mother: — 

I  .wish  you  could  have  been  with  me  Christmas 
morning.  When  I  entered  my  room,  before  breakfast,  I  found  it 
changed  mto  a  bower  of  verdure.  I  had  already  arranged  autumn 
leaves  about  it.  A  beautiful  trimming  of  cedar  twined,  and  wreathed, 
was  wound  above  the  leaves  and  around  the  picture  cords;  every 
window  and  door  was  festooned.  On  one  side  in  large  cedar  letters 
was  "Merry  Christmas,"  and  to  crown  all,  drawn  up  before  the 


I20 


REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


fire,  was  a  large,  elegant,  easy  chair,  with  a  card,  "An  expression 
of  affection  from  your  friends." 

Mrs.  Stetson,  one  of  the  chief  movers  in  this,  writes :  "I 
can  see  noiv,  and  I  shall  never  forget,  Mr.  Lawrence's  beam- 
ing face,  as  he  hastened  down-stairs  to  express  his  delight 
and  his  thanks." 

Of  the  Sunday  School  Christmas  festival,  Edward  wrote : 
"It  passed  of¥  delightfully,  and  by  half-past  nine  we  bad 
broken  up  without  any  kissing  games.  All  had  been  hap- 
py, and  none  more  so  than  I." 

"The  Alethodist  meeting  is  to  be  united  with  ours  for  the 
week  of  prayer,  of  which  I  shall  be  glad  as  a  proof  of  Chris  - 
tian unity." 

Later,  he  writes:  "In  this  session  with  the  Methodists  we 
have  had  some  of  the  best  meetings  I  have  attended  here, 
ihere  has  been  a  great  change  of  opinion  among  our  peo- 
ple concerning  them.  Moreover,  the  speaking  of  the  Meth- 
odist women  will  do  much  to  make  our  women  used  to  tlie 
idea.  .  .  Walter  Doolittle,  five  years  old,  invited  me  to 
his  birthday  party.  When  some  one  asked  him  for  an  invi- 
tat'on,  he  said,  'No,  he  wasn't  going  to  invite  any  gentle- 
men.' 'But  you  have  invited  Mr.  Lawrence.'  'Oh  !  he  isn't 
a  gentleman,  he's  a  minister.'  I  think  the  little  ones  are  all 
my  good  friends." 

Champlain,  March  2d,  1874. 
I  mean  to  speak  on  temperance,  the  Sunday  preceding  election, 
though  it  will  be  mainly  on  license  and  Christian  responsibility. 
Those  who  vote  for  a  bad  man,  because  he  belongs  to  the  party, 
will,  I  trust,  become  wiser. 

March  loth. 

Dio  Lewis  has  given  a  lecture  here.  The  next  day  fifteen 
women  declared  themselves  willing  to  go  into  the  crusade  work. 
On  Sunday,  the  four  churches,  Roman  Catholic,  Episcopal, 
Methodist  and  ours  had  sermons  on  the  movement.  When  I 
found  the  women  ready,  I  went  with  them  in  full  force.  On  Sun- 
day evening  I  preached  an  hour  on  the  subject,  to  a  fuller  house 
than  I  ever  had.  Men's  and  women's  prayer-meetings  were  ap- 
pointed for  yesterday  at  two  o'clock.  And  while  we  held  ours, 
forty-two  went  out  and  visited  the  places  where  liquor  is  sold. 
They  were  received  politely  in  all  cases,  while  they  prayed  and 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


121 


sang  and  appealed  to  the  men.  They  will  keep  it  up,  with  God's 
help,  till  they  have  success.  The  men  are  thoroughly  in  their  favor, 
even  the  drunkards,  many  of  whom  were  at  our  prayer-meeting. 
All  classes  and  denominations  are  represented,  and  the  women 
are  heroines. 

To  his  sister,  who  was  about  leaving  Bedin  for  Geneva  : — 

My  Darling  Roslein: — 

.  .  .  You  will  find  Madam  Bost  a  charm- 
ing woman,  and  her  husband  an  able,  entertaining  man.  I  am  glad 
you  have  such  good  society,  and  know  the  Dorners  and  Kummers, 
and  Mommsens. 

March  i8th,  1874. 

The  election,  yesterday,  came  of?  with  unexpected  success,  which 
would  not  have  been  possible  two  weeks  ago.  The  priest  co- 
operated heartily  and,  at  my  suggestion,  preached  on  Prohibition, 
telling  his  people  to  vote  for  it.  This  turned  many  of  the  French, 
who  might  otherwise  have  gone  against  us.  I  have  evidence 
which,  before  a  court,  would  cost  the  hotels  a  forfeiture  of  their 
license,  as  well  as  fines,  but  I  prefer  to  carry  the  matter  by  moral 
suasion,  if  possible.  The  Catholic  women  meet  every  day  with 
ours,  and  go  out.  I  wish  father  was  here  to  help  us.  We  had  a 
grand  mass  meeting,  Thursday  evening,  with  a  crowded  house, 
and  Mr.  Hall  of  Plattsburg  made  a  fine  speech.  I  still  continue 
in  excellent  health,  my  morning  cold  bath  being  one  of  my 
great  preservers. 

The  women  have  been  to  the  hotels,  which  are  indignant  at  the 
falling  off  of  the  traffic.  I  have  been  rolling  up  a  big  ball  of  evi- 
dence against  keepers  of  the  worst  hotel,  and  this  week  will  prob- 
ably witness  the  inauguration  of  the  legal  phase.  Of  course,  I 
shall  not  appear  in  it,  but  the  thing  would  not  be  done,  were  I  not 
to  push  it  forward. 

Edward  had  exchanged  several  letters  with  Mr.  Francis 
Peabody,  an  American  student  in  Germany,  who  had 
never  seen  him,  but  who  had  heard  of  him  from  Tholuck, 
and  was  led  to  open  a  correspondence  with  him. 
When  Edward  was  in  Marblehead,  in  the  spring  of  1874,  an 
arrangement  was  made  for  a  meeting  with  Mr.  Peabody, 
who,  soon  after  his  return,  had  become  pastor  of  the  First 
Unitarian  Church  in  Cambridge. 

Edward  writes  his  mother  : — 

April  igth,  1874. 

I  had  a  very  pleasant  call  at  the  Gibbens's.  and  then  met  Peabody, 
according  to  our  appointment.  I  enjoyed  every  moment  of  the 
visit  at  Jamaica  Plain.      Mrs.  Peabody  was  not  well,  but  came 


122    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


down  to  tea.  She  is  very  bright  and  interesting.  I  spent  most  of 
the  evening  in  Peabody's  study,  where  our  acquaintance  ripened 
rapidly.  He  is  thoroughly  in  earnest,  broad  and  quick  and  scholar- 
ly. We  went  over  many  subjects  to  find  our  common  interests, 
and  ascertained  that,  with  all  difTerences,  they  were  many.  Like 
myself,  he  is  a  warm  friend  of  Schleiermacher,  and  that  gives  a 
common  standing  point.  He  was  up  early  the  next  morning  to 
see  me  off. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  years,  Mr.  Peabody  accepted  a 
professorship  in  the  Harvard  Divinity  School.  After  Ed- 
ward had  gone  to  his  heavenly  home,  Prof.  Peabody  sent 
his  mother  the  following  letter : — 

I  first  heard  of  your  son  on  my  arrival  at  Halle,  in  1872,  where 
one  of  the  first  questions  of  dear  Prof.  Tholuck  was:  "Do  you 
know  Mr.  Lawrence?"  and  I  found  that  my  lack  of  knowledge 
was  a  distinct  loss  of  position  in  the  Professor's  mind.  From  the 
whole  University  circle  in  Halle  I  heard  the  same  report  of  this 
exceptional  American  youth,  who  had  lately  left  them,  and  I  soon 
entered  into  correspondence  with  him,  exchanging  many  letters 
before  we  ever  met.  Our  letters  went  to  the  roots  of  things,  so 
far  as  earnest  youths  could  reach  those  roots,  and  we  found  a 
sympathy  of  heart  and  mind  which  drew  us  much  together..  It 
was  an  acquaintance  throughout  of  the  most  congenial  kind.  I 
remember  that  the  first  book  he  commended  to  me  was  one  which 
has  fed  many  thoughtful  minds,  and  which  has  lately  been  re- 
printed. It  was :  Hidsmann's  Beitrage  ::ur  Christlichen 
Erkcnntniss ;  a  book  full  of  spiritual  insight  and  devoutness 
and  truly  reflecting  the  spirit  of  your  son's  thought.  As  the  years 
went  on,  our  paths  crossed  from  time  to  time,  and  I  always  felt 
as  if  a  gentle  and  refreshing  breeze  had  met  me,  and  went  about 
my  own  work  the  calmer  and  fresher  for  it.  Of  late,  I  had  lost 
him  altogether,  until  that  day  when  I  arrived  in  Baltimore,  to 
speak  my  little  word,  and  found  him  gone  and  a  city  mourning 
for  him.  It  was  no  surprise  to  me  to  find  that  he  had  lived  so 
modestly  that  only  by  degrees  the  community  had  recognized 
his  leadership,  but  that  he  was  just  coming  into  his  natural  place 
in  the  opinion  of  the  best.  No  man  I  ever  have  known  gave  him- 
self more  unreservedly  to  the  highest  ends  of  life.  I  have  always 
felt  that  the  most  responsible  positions  should  have  been  opened 
to  him,  and  especially  that  he  should  have  been  a  teacher  of 
young  ministers.  Perhaps  it  is  better  that  he  should  have  taught 
lis  how  to  live  modestly  in  a  parish  work,  and  to  show  us  how 
the  fragrance  of  a  consecrated  life  outlives  many  achievements 
which  we  count  as  great. 

During  Prof.  Peabody's  sorrowful  visit  at  Baltimore,  to 
which  his  letter  refers,  in  a  call  there  on  Edward's  mother, 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


123 


he  told  her  that  he  had  some  of  the  most  beautiful  letters 
from  her  son  that  he  ever  received,  and  that  on  his  return 
he  would  send  them  to  her.  But  he  found,  to  her  great  dis- 
appointment, as  well  as  his  own,  that  before  his  last  visit  to 
Europe,  in  destroying  many  of  his  old  letters,  these  treas- 
ured ones,  alas  !  were  among  them. 

April  26th,  1874. 
I  have  written  two  long  discourses  on  Prohibition,  and  have 
made  deep  thrusts,  I  presume,  yet  I  trust  with  no  sting.  When 
you  consider  that  four  of  our  principal  men  have  recently  signed 
a  rumseller's  petition  for  a  renewal  of  his  license,  you  will  see 
that  it  would  not  be  strange  if  my  remarks  should  create  some 
disturbance.  They  were  all  present,  but  I  could  not  pass  over  the 
subject.  When  speaking  of  the  license,  I  could  not  avoid  an  earnest 
appeal  to  the  consciences  and  the  hearts  of  everyone  before  me. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

CLOSE  OF  THE  CHAMPLAIN  PASTORATE. 

Set  yourself  earnestly  to  see  what  you  were  made  to  do,  and  then 
set  yourself  earnestly  to  do  it ;  and  the  loftier  your  purpose  is,  the 
more  sure  you  will  be  to  make  the  world  richer  with  every  enrich- 
ment of  yourself. — Phillips  Brooks. 

In  the  summer  of  1874  Edward's  father  was  appointed  a 
delegate  to  the  Peace  Congress,  at  Geneva,  where  he  deliv- 
ered an  address  on  the  "Progress  of  Peace  Principles."  It 
was  a  great  satisfaction  to  Edward  that  this  address  was  so 
kindly  received,  being  published  in  London  as  well  as  in 
this  country  and  widely  circulated.  Plis  mother  accom- 
panied his  father,  and  his  long-absent  sister  met  them  at 
Geneva  and  returned  to  America  with  them,  reaching  Mar- 
blehead  in  November.  It  was  soon  arranged  that  Edward's 
father  should  take  his  place  in  Champlain  for  a  time  and 
give  him  the  opportunity  to  visit  his  home.  Being  there  at 
Christmas,  he  got  up  a  musical  entertainment  as  a  welcome 
to  his  birthday  sister.  His  playful  programme,  which 
has  been  preserved  all  these  years,  was  very  like  him : — 

A  Christmas  Parlor  Concert  will  be  given  on  Dec.  25th,  1874. 
2-3  p.  m.,  by  Mile.  Anna  D.  Lawrence,  (just  returned  from  Berlin), 
and  Mr.  Edward  A.  Lawrence,  Jr.,  Pianist,  Basist,  Flutist,  Preachist. 

Audience. 
Mrs.  M.  W.  Lawrence, 
Writist. 
Agnes  McPhail, 
Scotist. 
Program. 

1.  Overture.  Don  Pasquale. 

4  Hands. 

2.  Song  without  Words.  Mendelssohn. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


125 


3.  Bass  Song,  Belshazzar. 

3  1-2  Flute  and  Piano  Duet — Miserere. 

4.  Song — Der  Tod  und  das  Madchen. 

5.  Polonaise. 


Schumann, 
Verdi. 
Schubert. 


Chopin. 


Part  Second, 


6.  Sonata. 

7.  Duet  for  Bass  and  Soprano. 

8.  Soprano  Solo. 

9.  Flute  and  Piano  Duet. 

10.  Bass  Solo. 

11.  Soprano  Solo. 


Beethoven. 
Siebe. 
Mendelssohn. 
Symphony,  Andante,  Beethoven. 

Schumann. 
Curschmann. 


Champlain,  Jan.  7th,  1875. 


The  lightning  express  train  that  I  took  from  Boston  proved  to 
be  more  thunder  than  lightning,  for  we  had  hardly  been  under  way 
half  an  hour,  when  something  about  the  engine  broke,  and  we  had 
to  wait  an  hour  before  they  could  get  another.  At  New  Haven, 
I  called  on  a  number  of  friends.  .  .  Mrs.  Hume  read  me  letters 
from  Robert,  who  is  actively  at  work  in  India.  I  took  the  boat  for 
New  York,  reaching  there  early  the  next  morning,  and  was  at 
cousin  John  Cotton  Smith's,  at  the  Ascension  Rectory,  before 
breakfast.  I  had  a  very  cordial  welcome  from  him  and  his  wife. 
They  are  a  charming  family.  Nellie  is  very  attractive,  and  Rolie 
most  kind  and  attentive.  Wednesday  morning,  I  called  on  Mrs. 
Field,  who  was  expecting  King  Kalakaua.  She  said  many  pleasant 
things  about  Anna,  and  wanted  us  both  to  visit  her  in  Stock- 
bridge.  .  .  I  spent  Thursday  night  with  John  Lockwood,  who 
has  a  fine  boy  of  seven  months.    Friday  night,  I  was  at  Alf  Myers's. 


Father  left  this  morning,  for  Concord,  where  he  will  lecture  at 
the  Insane  Asylum  to-morrow,  reaching  home  the  next  day.  He 
has  left  a  vacant  spot  in  many  hearts.  It  has  been  delightful  to 
have  his  friendly  counsel,  always  ready  when  needed,  and  his 
example  to  quicken  my  efJorts.  I  have  learned  a  great  deal  from 
his  stay  with  me. 

Of  his  sister,  who  was  spending  the  winter  in  Marble- 
head,  Edward  writes:  "It  is  pleasant  to  know  that  Anna  is 
getting  on  so  well.  I  think  it  would  do  her  good  occasion- 
ally to  read  an  aphorism  from  Aids  to  Reflection.  The 
time  she  spends  with  yoti  now  will  be  among  the  most  val- 
uable of  her  life.  .  .  I  must  tell  you  of  Grade's  prayer 
the  other  night :  'Bless  papa  and  mamma  and  Willie,  amen. 
I  can't  bless  the  babies  because  they  haven't  got  any 
names.'  " 


Champlain,  Jan.  2Sth,  1875. 


I  preached,  yesterday,  from  the  text,  "What  doth  it  profit,  my 


126   REMLYISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


brethren,  though  a  man  say  he  hath  faith  and  have  not  works? 
Can  faith  save  him?"  presenting  the  power  to  make  men  better 
as  the  ultimate  test  of  the  truth  of  Christianity,  the  only  proof 
that  it  can  do  what  it  claims  to  do.  .  .  There  is  in  The  Nation 
a  review  of  Fiske's  Cosmic  Fliilosophy,  which  I  should  like  to 
have  father  read. 

To  his  sister: 

You  want  to  do  something  for  Christ,  but  do  not 
know  how.  In  just  this  way  you  must  work  for  him,  that  you 
live  him;  then  you  are  doing  something  for  him  every  moment. 
And  every  time  you  do  anything  to  help  any  human  being,  and 
every  little  act  of  thoughtfulness  is  something  done  for  Christ. 
And  so  you  may  like  the  world,  not  because  it  makes  you  happy, — 
long  happy  it  cannot  make  you,  but  because  it  gives  you  an  op- 
portunity to  help  others  and  to  live  Christ.  And  you  may  love 
your  studies,  because  they  can  make  you  wiser  in  helping  others, 
and  good  music,  because  it  can  take  you  away  from  a  common, 
selfish  life,  and  make  you  purer  and  better.  And  when  you  love 
all  these  things  in  the  right  way,  you  will  love  Christ  above  every- 
thing else,  and  will  never  lack  opportunities  to  serve  him.  Men 
judge  only  according  to  what  is  really  done,  but  if  you  have  a 
sincere  wish  to  serve  him,  he  regards  that  as  something  done  for 
him.  And  thus  beginning  to  live  Christ  here,  you  can  never  stop 
living  him.  But  this  great  duty  of  loving  all  men — I  wish  you 
would  write  me,  why  you  think  we  should  do  it,  and  what  it  means. 

.  .  .  Thunder  storms,  horses,  all  other  fears,  how  shall  they 
be  overcome?  Not  all  at  once.  Not  by  denying  or  ignoring  the 
element  of  danger,  for  that  lurks  in  all  our  life,  but  by  steady  dis- 
cipline and  increasing  self-mastery  on  the  one  hand,  and  by 
simple,  childlike  trust  on  the  other,  which,  in  all  danger,  feels  it- 
self in  the  Father's  care  and  lets  his  peace  keep  the  soul  calm. 

The  following  is  an  instance  of  the  many  taxes  on  Ed- 
ward's sympathy  and  shows  what  a  hold  he  gained  in  the 
hearts  of  his  flock. 

But  he  had  a  sad  task  to  discharge.  A  sick  woman, 
whom  he  had  visited,  became  delirious.  She  refused  all 
medicine,  thinking  it  was  poison,  but  said  she  would  take  it 
if  Mr.  Lawrence  would  give  it  to  her.  He  could  hear  her  in 
the  street,  calling  his  name.  He  went  in  once  or  twice,  but 
she  rapidly  failed  and  died  the  next  morning. 

The  Glorious  Fourth  at  Clinton  Prison.  Such  was  the  head- 
ing of  one  of  the  papers.  The  account  represents  it  as  a 
notable  gathering  in  the  prison.  After  various  vocal  and  in- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


127 


strumental  performances,  and  the  reading  of  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence,  the  prison  chaplain.  Rev.  Mr.  Ran- 
som, introduced  the  Rev.  Mr.  Lawrence  of  Champlain.  "The 
orator  stood  before  us,  and,  without  circumlocution,  deliv- 
ered an  address  which  was  Pertinent,  witty  and  moral.  'In- 
dependence,' he  said,  'was  in  the  air ;  everything  was  filled 
with  it,  even  the  pinwheels  and  fireworks  of  the  boys 
cracked  out  independence.'  (And,  as  he  was  speaking,  the 
report  of  a  mammoth  fire-cracker  resounded  through  the 
adjacent  grounds,  producing  the  greatest  merriment.)  .  .  . 
He  deprecated  spread-eagleism  and  expediency  as  substi- 
tutes for  principle ;  'but,'  said  he,  'let  the  individuals  who  are 
the  constituent  part  of  our  nation  get  right  ideas,  and  be- 
come true  men  and  true  women,  and  as  surely  as  day  suc- 
ceeds night,  our  nation  will  be  prosperous,  glorious  and 
happy.'  I  have  only  to  say  that  the  orator  would  be  cred- 
itable to  any  nation  under  heaven." 
Later,  Edward  writes  : — 

I  have  had  a  call  from  the  church  in  Malone,  which  Dr.  Bulkley 
has  just  left,  and  where  Dr.  Herrick  was.  It  is  a  fine  church,  the 
strongest  in  Northern  New  York.  I  have  no  idea  of  going, 
however.  So  long  as  I  remain  in  this  region,  I  am  satisfied  to 
stay  here.  When  I  remove,  I  should  like  to  go  either  West  or 
East,  with  the  stimulus  of  energetic  life,  or  of  cultivated  thought. 
I  am  now  translating  articles  of  Christlieb's  for  the  Christian  Union. 

On  Nov.  30th,  Edward  gave  a  tea  party  at  Mr.  Cook's, 
his  Champlain  home.  Of  this  Mrs.  Stetson  writes :  "Mr. 
Lawrence  invited  some  of  the  neglected  young  men  that 
were  going  astray,  saying  to  one  and  another  of  the  ladies, 
'Will  you  come  and  do  your  best  to  make  it  pleasant  for  so 
and  so?'  The  result  was  a  delightful  evening  and  one  to  be 
long  remembered." 

She  adds :  "I  never  talked  with  Mr.  Lawrence  without 
feeling  elevated.  It  was  one  of  his  gifts  to  put  himself  on  a 
level  with  those  with  whom  he  conversed,  making  them 
feel  that  there  was  something  higher  worth  striving  for. 


128    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Then  he  was  so  earnest  in  pushing  forward  the  repairing  of 
our  shabby  church,  that  it  resulted  in  making  it  one  of  the 
prettiest  churches  in  northern  New  York.  He  was  also 
greatly  interested  in  the  singing,  and  taught  us  to  love  a 
higher  line  of  music  than  that  we  had  been  accustomed  to. 
Oh !  there  were  many,  many  things  that  were  a  help  to  us 
all,  and  his  memory  is  precious." 
About  this  time  Edward  writes : — 

We  are  seeing  the  results  of  our  temperance  work  last  spring. 
For  the  first  time  there  is  no  place  in  Champlain  where  liquor 
can  legally  be  sold.  A  year  ago,  there  were  twelve.  Drunkards  too 
have  been  saved. 

To-morrow,  I  start  an  evening  school  for  our  French  people, 
from  which  I  hope  a  great  deal. 

One  of  his  church  members  speaks  of  this  school  as  be- 
ing very  successful,  several  old  people  learning  to  read  un- 
der his  teaching. 

Friday  evening,  I  go  seven  miles,  to  give  a  lecture  on  Germany, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Sunday  School  there.  Thanksgiving  Day 
we  had  a  fine  audience.  People  came  who  had  not  attended  a 
thanksgiving  service  for  twenty  years. 

March  ist. 

I  have  had  a  letter  from  some  one  in  Virginia,  who  has  heard 
father  preach  in  Orford,  N.  H.,  and  writes: — "I  enjoyed  hearing 
him  so  much.  A  grand  example  of  a  holy  life,  he  hardly  seems  to 
be  of  this  earth.  He  always  reminded  me  of  John,  the  beloved  dis- 
ciple. I  could  sit  for  hours  and  hear  him  tell  in  his  affectionate, 
childlike  way  of  the  love  of  Christ,  and  of  God's  merries."  It 
does  me  good  to  find  father  so  appreciated.  I  value  such  words 
about  him  more  than  any  praise  to  myself.  May  I  only  be  » 
worthy  son ! 

There  is  no  translation  of  Rothe's  Ethics.  It  would  be  almost 
impossible  to  translate.  But  he  has  been  meat  to  me.  You  may 
remember  that  I  studied  him  with  Dorner,  in  Berlin.  Kant  and 
Schleiermacher  and  Rothe  are  the  German  thinkers  to  whom  ' 
owe  most,  but  particularly  Schleiermacher.  I  am  studying  the 
history  of  the  Israelites,  in  connection  with  the  Sunday  School 
lesson,  and  grow  more  and  more  impressed  with  my  subject.  I 
mean  to  begin  with  the  very  beginning  and  in  the  next  two  or 
three  years  study  carefully  down  to  the  time  of  Christ.  I  see  more 
and  more  how  necessary  is  a  careful  study  of  the  history  and 
geography  to  a  fair  understanding  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament, 
and  that  the  study  of  Exegesis  really  depends  on  this  preliminary 
or  connected  study  of  history.    Ewald  is  grand,  a  complete  master 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  1 29 


of  his  material,  though  yielding  too  much  to  the  mythical  theory 
to  please  father.  Yet  he  is  thoroughly  positive.  Stanley  brings 
out  many  additional  points. 

I  mean  to  read  on  both  sides  of  these  important  questions,  and 
thus  approach  a  riper  and  more  correct  result,  wherever  that  may 
be.  I  feel  sure  enough  of  the  great  foundation,  and  in  building  on 
that,  I  must  do  my  own  work,  and  not  let  any  school  do  it  for  me. 
The  matter  of  Biblical  criticism  demands  the  utmost  candor  and 
allowance,  and  in  it,  everv  one  so  far  as  possible,  must  draw  his 
own  conclusions.  In  such  studies,  11  seems  to  me,  we  should  ac- 
cept freely  all  the  help  which  science  and  criticism  offer,  and  work 
up  the  result  to  add  to  the  treasure.<:  of  the  church.  Whether  I 
shall  ever  be  denounced  as  a  heretic,  I  don't  know,  but  I  must 
work  on,  only  distinguishing  between  what  is  material  for  the  pul- 
pit, and  what  is  meant  for  the  study.  I  am  conscious  of  a  widening 
vision,  as  I  go  on  with  my  work,  and  I  hope,  a  deeper  foundation. 
I  trust  I  may  turn  out  an  earnest  worker  for  God's  kingdom.  If 
I  can  be  that,  I  care  little  by  what  name  I  may  be  called. 

In  one  of  his  letters  Edward  used  the  word  pot-theism. 
To  the  inquiry  as  to  the  meaning  of  this  word,  he  replies : 
"Pot-theism  is  akin  to  pan-theism,  basing  itself  on  the  text, 
'Thou  art  the  potter  and  we  the  clay.'  It  treats  man  as  a  be- 
ing created  and  managed  simply  and  solely  for  God's  glory, 
whether  a  vessel  of  wrath  or  of  mercy." 

April  19. 

Last  night  I  had  a  Praise-Meeting  instead  of  the  regular 
preaching  service,  and  is  proved  a  great  success.  The  subject  was 
The  Christian  Life.  I  had  selected  six  or  eight  hymns  which  ex- 
pressed different  phases  of  that  life,  and  I  bound  them  together 
by  passages  of  Scripture  and  occasional  remarks. 

When  I  come  back  I  want  to  bring  Anna.  I  don't  know  when 
she  may  be  able  to  spend  two  or  three  months  with  me,  if  not 
now,  and  I  would  not  miss  the  summer  with  her  for  a  good  deal. 
She  can  read  and  study  and  practise,  and  I  can  take  special  charge 
of  her  German. 

Edward's  plan  of  settling  in  the  West  had  not  been  given 
up.  "The  idea,"  he  says,  "of  going  far  from  you  is  painful, 
but  I  am  ready  to  go  wherever  it  seems  best.  And  wherev- 
er I  settle,  I  hope  the  way  will  be  open  for  you  to  come  to 
me. 

"I  have  engaged  to  supply  the  Congregational  Church 
at  Poughkeepsie,  May  9th,  and  possibly  May  i6th." 

Edward  was  never  willing  to  preach  as  a  candidate,  but 


I30   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


as  the  question  of  his  removal  to  Poughkeepsie  had  been 
presented  to  him,  he  wished  to  understand  the  condition  of 
the  church.  On  May  9th,  1875,  he  writes  from  there:  "At 
Mr.  Abraham  Wiltsie's,  66  Garden  St.  Mr.  Wiltsie,  a  fine 
old  gentleman,  met  me  at  the  station  and  took  me  at  once 
to  his  house.  .  .  The  church  has  been  a  strong  one,  but 
at  present  there  is  very  little  that  is  encouraging.  I  feel 
homesick  away  from  Champlain,  and  to  leave  there  would 
be  to  tear  myself  away." 

Champlain,  May  30th. 
It  is  very  pleasant  to  be  here  again,  and  to  have  my  people 
around  me.  We  had  many  beautiful  flowers  at  church,  yesterday, 
and  as  usual,  I  have  them  about  my  room,  making  the  air  rich 
with  their  fragrance,  while  through  the  open  windows  the  birds' 
songs  float  in. 

June  7th. 

Deacon  Kellogg  drove  me  down  to  Corbeau,  where  I  had  a  fine 
congregation.  Coming  back,  I  wanted  to  get  out  and  walk  home, 
but  he  objected,  fearing  that  if  people  saw  him  driving  alone,  they 
would  think  he  had  been  visiting  on  Sunday,  whereas,  if  I  was 
with  him,  they  would  know  it  was  all  right.  So  the  minister  con- 
cluded to  remain.  He  said  he  has  always  known  that  I  wasn't 
starched  or  stuck  up,  and  he  had  seen  my  sister,  and  didn't  think 
she  was  starched.  Now  how  did  that  come  to  pass?  We  had  both 
been  in  Germany.  Did  we  get  it  there,  or  was  it  inherited?  I 
told  him  he  had  seen  my  father  and  mother,  and  knew  whether 
they  were  starched,  and  he  could  judge.  He  concluded  that  not  to 
be  starched  was  a  family  trait. 

To  the  proposal,  whether  I  was  willing  to  consider  a  call  to 
Poughkeepsie,  I  replied  that  I  could  give  no  decisive  thought  to 
the  subject  till  the  proposal  should  be  made;  that  I  wished  to 
work  where  there  was  the  greatest  prospect  of  usefulness,  and 
should  be  largely  influenced  by  the  unanimity  with  which  a  call 
should  be  given.  And  in  any  event,  I  should  not  be  willing  to 
leave  here  before  September.  .  .  Anna  is  a  darling  girl.  She 
seems  to  feel  much  at  home,  and  to  enjoy  the  people  here.  It  is 
delightful  to  feel  that  we  are  all  on  the  same  side  the  water.  She 
sang  in  the  choir,  yesterday,  and  in  the  evening  took  the  leading 
part. 

Meantime,  Anna  sent  home  letters  full  of  her  happiness 
with  her  brother  :  "He  cannot  help  doing  good,  because  he 
has  so  much  love  for  his  work  and  is  so  in  earnest." 

June  25th,  1875. 

The  call  from  Poughkeepsie  has  come,  and  I  have  given  my  con- 
ditions of  acceptance.    If  I  go  there,  it  will  be  simply  because  it 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  131 


seems  right.  The  prospect  is  not  very  attractive,  but  I  believe 
a  good  work  can  be  done  there. 

Plattsburg,  Aug.  5th,  1875. 

Dear  Father: — 

We  are  here  with  these  delightful  friends,  the 
Halls,  who  are  unsurpassed  in  their  hospitality,  and  grow  dearer 
every  time  I  am  with  them.  They  are  of  the  kind  that  can  rightly 
appreciate  the  mother  and  daughter,  who  carried  themselves  like 
heroines,  yesterday,  and  astonished  the  natives  by  their  bravery  in 
going  through  Ausablc  Chasm. 

Last  Sunday,  I  had  my  first  open  air  service,  in  a  grove  near 
the  school-house  in  Corbeau.  The  people  turned  out  in  large 
numbers,  also  the  dogs.  They  had  benches  for  seats,  and  a  num- 
ber were  around  me  in  their  wagons. 

When  at  Plattsburg,  Edward  arranged  with  Mr.  Hall  for 
a  walk  of  twelve  days  in  the  Adirondacks.  Of  this  trip  he 
sent  home  glowing  letters,  the  first  of  a  series  which  fol- 
lowed in  after  years,  as  the  Adirondacks  became  his  sum- 
mer resort. 

Adirondacks,  August,  1875. 

I  write  this  from  one  of  the  strangest  villages  I  have  ever  seen 
in  this  country.  It  is  on  the  banks  of  a  singing  brook,  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  mountains,  with  beautiful  lakes  around  it.  It  has  a 
store,  a  church,  a  hotel,  large  iron  works,  furnaces,  brick  kilns 
and  a  number  of  houses,  with  a  pleasant  street,  lined  with  fine 
shade  trees,  yet  you  walk  through  it  and  see  not  a  sign  of  life. 
The  street  is  all  grass-grown,  the  houses  are  empty,  doors  open 
and  window  sashes  gone.  All  is  silent  as  the  grave.  There  are 
thousands  of  bushels  of  charcoal,  but  no  one  to  burn  it,  thousands 
of  bricks,  but  nobody  to  use  them,  tons  and  tons  of  the  finest  iron 
ore,  but  lying  neglected,  all  seeming  like  Babel.  Everything 
speaks  of  life  and  industry,  yet  all  is  death.  But  as  the  work  of 
man  decays,  the  hand  of  nature  rebuilds  her  own  structures.  It  is, 
in  short.  The  Deserted  Village. 

I  find  walking  here  very  different  from  any  other  walking  I  have 
known,  being  almost  wholly  through  the  primeval  forest.  You 
are  thus  out  of  the  burning  sun,  which  scorches  you  in  Switzer- 
land, and  escape  the  hard,  stony,  cutting  paths.  You  follow  a 
simple  footpath,  which  winds  through  the  otherwise  trackless  for- 
est, sometimes  plainly  seen,  sometimes  only  found  by  the  cuts  on 
the  trees,  called  blazes,  which  always  mark  the  trail,  as  it  is 
named.  It  is  strange  to  feel  yourself  miles  deep  in  the  forest, 
with  only  this  slight,  winding  thread  to  lead  you  through  and  out 
of  it.  In  a  good  trail,  you  travel  on  soft,  mossy  ground.  But  you 
wind  about  on  every  side.  You  climb  fallen  timber  or  creep 
under  huge  logs.  You  brush  aside  the  bushes,  you  dodge  them 
as  they  fiy  back,  you  wade  through  the  mud,  you  ford  brooks, 
you  sink  at  every  step  in  the  swamps,  you  step  cautiously  over 


132   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


moss-covered  boulders,  where  a  mis-step  may  cause  a  fall,  or 
some  rotten  root  gives  way  and  you  sink  deep;  and  so  you  bend 
and  spring,  and  turn  and  twist,  and  climb  and  crawl  and  jump, 
until  one  mile  of  such  tramping  tires  you  as  much  as  three  or 
four  miles  on  an  ordinary  road.  I  have  learned  to  measure  dis- 
tances very  differently,  this  week. 

A  camp  is  made  of  pine  stakes  or  logs,  built  upon  the  side,  or 
spreading  over  into  a  roof  covered  with  bark.  The  roof  slants 
down  to  the  ground,  leaving  only  one  side  open.  Right  in  front 
a  large  fire  is  built.  Our  guide  has  two  tin  pails,  each  holding 
over  a  quart.  In  one  of  these  coffee  is  cooked.  We  cut  a  stick 
for  a  toasting  fork.  We  squat  before  the  fire  and  toast  our  pork 
brown;  then  we  toast  cheese,  and  sometimes  bread,  and  thus  we 
have  a  luxurious  repast.  We  have  two  tin  plates  and  our  large 
pocket-knives,  which  make  up  the  whole  of  our  crockery.  At 
night,  the  fire  is  replenished  with  back  logs.  The  ground  under 
the  shed  which  makes  the  camp  is  spread  with  hemlock  boughs, 
and  over  these  we  lay  our  rubber  blankets.  Using  our  knapsacks 
for  pillows,  we  take  of?  only  our  boots,  and  with  a  huge  fire 
crackling  at  our  feet,  we  go  to  sleep. 

Poughkeepsie,  Sept.  1875. 
The  last  days  in  Champlain  were  very  busy,  very  sad  days. 
Some  of  my  friends  could  hardly  speak  of  my  going,  indeed  I 
could  hardly  do  it  myself.  Harriet  Doolittle, — (since  translated 
from  earth)  could  not  conceal  her  feelings,  and  it  was  as  if  a 
brother  had  been  going  from  the  family.  How  I  shall  always 
cherish  their  affections!  The  last  prayer-meeting  was  very  largely 
attended.  The  prayers  were  full  of  emotion  and  petitions  for  me, 
and  some  of  them  touched  me  deeply.  Thursday  I  took  tea  for  the 
last  time  at  the  Doolittles's,  then  said  good-bye  to  all,  Martin  driving 
me  to  the  boat.  Dear  Champlain!  dear  friends!  I  must  not  feel  that  I 
have  lost  them.  Yet  it  was  a  sad  parting.  It  is  hard  to  think 
that  those  things  of  which  I  was  a  part  will  go  on  without  me; 
that  I  shall  never  again  live  with  them  as  I  have  done. 

In  a  letter  to  Edward's  mother,  Miss  Harriet  Doolittle 
writes : — 

At  the  last  prayer-meeting  there  was  a  large  attendance,  and  it 
was  worse  than  a  dozen  funerals.  I  hope  there  will  never  be  an- 
other like  it  while  I  am  alive.  Yet  Mr.  Lawrence  could  not  fail  to 
be  gratified,  for  with  all  the  unwillingness  to  let  him  go,  he  has 
the  most  earnest  prayers  and  best  wishes  of  the  people.  As  he 
said,  if  he  had  all  they  asked  for  him,  he  could  wish  for  nothing 
more.  After  the  meeting,  he  came  in  and  had  his  usual  glass  of 
milk  and  ginger-bread,  but  nobody  could  be  sociable.  Thursday 
morning  I  drove  down  to  Nebraska,  met  Mrs.  C.  at  the  gate,  and 
bade  her  good  morning.  "Don't  speak  to  me,"  she  said,  and 
bursting  into  tears,  rushed  across  the  street.  Mr.  Lawrence  dined 
at  the  Hoyles's,  and  at  about  three,  came  in  and  sank  down  on  the 
sofa.    "Tired  out?"    I  asked.  "No,  not  tired,  but  I  never  did  such 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  133 


desolate  work."  Sunday  was  a  hard  day  for  pastor  and  people, 
but  it  was  nothing  to  the  days  that  came  after. 

Among  others,  from  whom  it  was  not  easy  to  part,  was 
his  namesake,  Lawrence  Stetson.  He  never  lost  his  interest 
in  the  boy,  keeping  his  photograph  with  his  other  treas- 
ures. In  a  letter  to  Aunt  Patience  of  the  Christian  Union, 
some  years  later,  the  little  fellow  writes :  "I  am  named  after 
Mr.  Lawrence,  who  preaches  in  Poughkeepsie.  Do  you 
know  him?  He  is  splendid.  Your  loving  nephew, Lawrence 
Stetson.''  To  which  Aunt  Patience  replied:  "I've  seen  your 
picture.  What  do  you  think  of  that?  Where  do  you  think 
I  saw  it?  I  agree  with  you  about  Mr.  Lawrence.  I've 
known  him  since  he  was  a  little  boy,  and  the  reason  he  is 
such  a  good  man  is  because  he  began,  long  years  ago,  by 
being  a  good  boy." 

Lawrence  Stetson  is  now  in  Oberlin  College.  And  it  is 
his  purpose  to  enter  the  ministry,  which  Edward  would 
have  rejoiced  to  know.   And  does  he  not  know  it? 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE  WORK  AT  POUGHKEEPSIE. 

My  life  is  but  a  field 

Stretched  out  beneath  God's  sky, 

Some  harvest  rich  to  yield. 

— Maltbie  D.  Babcock,  D.  D. 

Poughkeepsie,  Sept.  I2th,  1875. 

We  had  a  large  audience,  yesterday,  many  coming  from  curiosity 
to  hear  the  new  minister.  I  have  seldom  seen  so  many  fine  flowers 
at  an  ordinary  church  service.  The  people  seem  frank  and  friendly, 
and  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  there  are  a  number  who  are  real  work- 
ers. But  I  cannot  help  being  disgusted  with  the  way  in  which 
some  speak  of  drawing  congregations,  as  if  the  service  were  a 
fair,  and  you  were  to  advertise  the  highest  attractions.  Yet  where 
there  are  various  churches,  the  spirit  of  emulation  is  apt  to  creep 
in.  My  church  has  the  hardest  work,  and  is  the  thinnest  of  any. 
Pray  for  me,  that  I  may  keep  a  pure  spirit,  free  for  my  work  and 
disentangled  from  the  snares  of  ambition.  I  want  to  preach  sim- 
ply, quietly,  powerfully,  not  with  an  eye  to  applause,  but  for  the 
good  of  those  who  listen,  be  they  few  or  many. 

Deacon  Wiltsie  is  devoted  to  the  church,  and  will  accompany  me 
in  my  calls.  My  home  for  the  present  is  in  his  family.  My  room 
is  small,  but  the  study  in  the  church  is  cozy  and  well  furnished. 
With  my  standing  desk  and  easy  chair  and  pictures,  it  will  be 
complete. 

■  Sept.  27th. 

Mr.  Smillie,  brother  of  the  Smillie  who  engraved  Cole's  "Voyage 
of  Life,"  and  a  gentleman  of  the  old  school,  is  one  of  our  mem- 
bers.  He  has  a  fine  place,  called  "Hill  Side,"  three  miles  out. 

The  most  diverse  beliefs  and  opinions  prevail  in  our  church. 
In  one  family  I  find  those  who  are  rigidly  orthodox,  and  have 
ceased  to  attend  our  church  because  it  is  so  liberal.  In  another, 
are  Universalists;  in  another,,  one  who  is  almost  a  Free  Religion- 
ist; and  in  another  still,  where  the  talk  is  of  sanctification  and 
perfection.  But  I  find  very  little  difference  in  their  warm  regard 
for  Abraham  Wiltsie.  Does  not  this  show  how  love  to  God  may 
unite  them  all?  Orthodoxy,  Liberalism,  Methodism,  Temper- 
ance, Indifference,  are  all  jumbled  together.  Now  may  God  work 
upon  the  chaos  and  bring  out  of  it  a  beautiful,  harmonious  whole! 

Oct.  4th.  1875. 

It  was  Communion  Sunday,  yesterday,  dear  mother,  and  balmy 
as  a  June  day.    A  basket  of  beautiful  white  flowers,  tube  rosebuds, 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


carnations  and  phlox,  with  a  little  cross  rising  from  it,  showed  the 
giver's  providing  care.  And  she  told  the  sexton  to  have  it  put 
into  Mr.  Lawrence's  study  on  Monday.  Some  dozen  or  fifteen 
young  ladies  were  there  from  Vassar,  and  nearly  as  many  from 
Brooks  Seminary,  also  in  the  gallery  some  forty  or  fifty  little 
children  from  the  Home  for  the  Friendless.  .  .  Our  church 
has  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  sociable  of  any  in  the  city. 

Oct.  14th. 

As  it  is  important  that  I  should  get  into  my  study  early,  and  as 
you  know  I  take  a  very  simple  breakfast,  I  asked  Mrs.  Wiltsie  to 
let  me  have  my  oatmeal  at  half-past  seven,  to  which  she  readily 
assented. 

One  day  last  week,  I  called  with  her  and  her  husband  on  Mrs. 
White,  principal  and  proprietor  of  Brooks  Female  Seminary,  and 
a  bright,  active  woman  of  New  England  education.  But  I  must 
not  fail  to  tell  you  of  a  game  played  at  Dr.  Wheeler's,  a  few  nights 
ago.  Each  one  has  a  name  given  him  by  his  right  hand  neigh- 
bor, and  a  proverb  by  his  left  hand,  neither  knowing  what  the 
other  gives.  It  seems,  my  name  was  proposed  to  some  one,  and 
a  proverb  to  the  same  person,  who  read  the  two  together.  "Mr. 
Lawrence."   "A  new  broom  sweeps  clean."   Good,  wasn't  it? 

I  go  to  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  Rooms  once  a  week,  glance  at  the 
weeklies,  to  see  how  things  are  going  on,  and  read  the  Nation. 
Otherwise,  I  read  very  little  in  papers  or  magazines.  My  eyes 
are  gaining  in  strength,  and  I  hope  in  a  few  years  to  have  the 
entire  use  of  them  again,  although  not  without  glasses. 

Nov.  29th. 

How  much  I  thought  of  you  all.  Thanksgiving  Day !  I  am  glad 
Harold  Coffin  was  with  you.  We  had  a  good  congregation,  and 
I  spent  a  pleasant  evening  with  other  company  at  Brooks  Semin- 
ary. 

Edward  sometimes  repeated  the  kind  things  that  were 
said  to  him,  for  the  sake  of  gratifying  his  father  and  moth- 
er, but  what  would  not  be  so  pleasant  for  them  to  hear,  he 
kept  to  himself.  For  instance,  he  said  nothing  about  a  fall 
he  had,  till  his  mother  heard  about  it  from  another  source. 
To  her  inquiries  he  replied  :  "When  at  Lake  Mohonk,  I 
slipped  and  fell  on  a  rock,  striking  very  violently,  so  that 
trouble  in  the  spine  and  indigestion  followed."  In  accord- 
ance with  her  wishes,  he  took  massage  treatment.  But  it 
was  a  long  time  before  the  difficulty  was  entirely  relieved. 

„  . .  Dec  7th,  1875. 

Friday  evenmg,  Mrs.  Wiltsie  and  I  rode  out  in  the  horse  cars  to 
Vassar,  and  were  ushered  into  a  beautiful  scene.  The  long,  broad 
windows  were  trimmed  with   greens,   and   fair   ushers   stood  at 


136   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


every  point.  In  the  parlor,  Mrs.  Wiltsie  introduced  me  to  Prof, 
and  Mrs.  Backus,  and  to  Prof.  Mrs.  and  Miss  Henkel,  Germans, 
— very  interesting  people.  I  left  at  eleven,  and  the  next  day, 
according  to  my  promise,  I  went  out  and  dined  there.  After 
dinner  we  went  over  to  the  Observatory  to  see  Prof.  Maria 
Mitchell,  and  I  had  a  good,  long  chat  with  her  on  many  subjects. 
She  spoke  of  Mrs.  Somerville,  whose  bust  was  given  her  by 
Frances  Power  Cobbe,  of  Theodore  Parker,  of  her  father,  and  of 
her  wish  to  adopt  children. 

It  had  been  the  custom  to  have  a  regular  sermon  on  Com- 
munion day,  and  at  Edward's  first  Communion  season  he 
had  conformed  to  this.  But  on  the  second  occasion,  he 
writes :  "We  had  Communion  in  my  own  way.  Explain- 
ing my  reason  for  the  change  and  for  not  dismissing  the 
congregation,  I  stood  by  the  table  and  spoke  about  twenty 
minutes  on  the  Sacrament  as  a  remembrance.  I  also  read 
George  Herbert's  poem,  'Was  Ever  Grief  Like  Mine?'  In 
the  evening,  I  preached  on  Salvation,  not  merely  from  pun- 
ishment or  sin,  but  for  something,  and  not  only  for  heaven, 
but  for  righteousness." 

As  Edward's  mother  did  not  want  his  Christmas  presents 
to  come  to  him  as  among  strangers,  she  wrote  to  Mrs.  Wilt- 
sie, who  kindly  entered  into  her  plans. 

Dec.  27th. 

You  prepared  a  happy  surprise  for  me.  The  room  was  full  of 
presents,  but  I  hardly  expected  any.  When  the  first  one  from  home 
came,  however,  I  caught  the  idea  at  once.  I  was  much  pleased 
with  them  all,  and  everj-thing  will  be  of  service.  In  the  after- 
noon, I  drilled  the  Sunday  School  children  for  an  hour,  in  singing 
Christmas  carols,  preparing  for  our  festival  of  next  Tuesday. 

Jan.  loth,  1876. 

Last  night,  my  first  words  in  the  sermon  were,  "Whose  voice  is 
this?"  When  I  spoke  of  the  reverence  we  attach  to  the  parental 
voice,  I  felt  that  I  was  drawing  from  my  own  experience,  and  that 
few  could  speak  of  a  parent's  voice  with  such  reverence.  So  you 
see  how  your  love  helps  my  work. 

Mrs.  Wiltsie  and  Mrs.  Elting,  another  dear  Poughkeep- 
sie  friend,  having  discovered  that  Edward's  birthday  and 
his  sister's  came  the  same  day,  Jan.  i6th,  entered  into  a  con- 
spiracy, sending  on  a  check  to  cover  her  travelling  expenses 
and  arranging  for  her  to  carry  a  paper  in  her  hand,  so  that 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


Mr.  Wiltsie,  when  he  went  t  o  meet  her  in  his  carriage, 
might  have  some  mark  for  discovery.  Edward  was  be- 
guiled away  for  the  evening,  and  she  was  smuggled  into 
the  house.  He  writes  :  "Well !  well !  well !  What  will  not 
a  few  women  do  when  they  put  their  heads  together?  And 
we  unsuspicious  men  are  completely  caught  in  the  trap.  I 
came  from  my  room,  lin  the  morning,  as  calmly  as  if  my 
Roslein  were  not  sitting  in  the  parlor.  I  did  not  shout  or 
leap  when  I  saw  her,  but  I  thought  a  great  deal.  It  is  a  de  - 
light to  have  her  here." 

Jan.  24th,  1876. 

The  dear  girl  has  just  gone,  and  I  am  dwelling  in  memory  on 
her  delightful  visit. 

Jan.  31st. 

Saturday  evening,  some  one  from  Vassar  called  to  see  if  I 
could  preach  there  Sunday  afternoon,  as  Pres.  Raymond  was  un- 
well. I  am  told  it  is  quite  an  ordeal  to  preach  at  Vassar.  But 
whether  I  am  presumptuous  or  stupid,  I  felt  quite  as  much  at  ease 
as  anywhere.  I  had  something  to  say,  and  was  glad  of  a  chance 
to  say  it.  It  was  pleasant  to  see  three  hundred  young  ladies  be- 
fore me  as  listeners. 

In  our  church  and  parish,  our  people  are  thoroughly  united, 
and  are  growing  more  and  more  earnest.  A  broad  spirit  of 
Christian  charity  prevails.  There  is  no  dogmatism,  and  widely 
different  views  are  often  expressed,  but  there  is  no  argumentation 
or  wrangling.  Our  deacons,  too,  are  the  kindest  set,  and  I  delight 
in  my  work. 

Edward's  thoughts  had  been  so  directed  to  the  Western 
field  that  it  was  not  quite  easy  to  give  up  the  idea  of  going 
there.  Then  he  wished  to  be  satisfied  that  he  was  the  man 
for  the  Poughkeepsie  Church,  with  all  the  difficulties  in- 
volved. After  six  months'  experience,  finding  it  was  the 
unanimous  desire  of  the  people  that  he  should  remain  as 
their  pastor,  he  concluded  to  do  so.  On  April  24th,  1876, 
he  writes  home  : — 

In  announcing  my  purpose,  I  defined  my  position  somewhat 
plainly,  claiming  entire  freedom  for  myself  to  advance  towards 
truth  by  what  light  I  can  get,  saying  that  I  cannot  be  bound  by 
the  utterances  of  any  man  or  body  of  men,  or  even  by  my  own  past 
words,  rejecting  all  lower  names  than  that  of  Christ,  whether  of 
Peter,  Paul  or  John,  Calvinism  or  Armenianism,  Orthodoxy  or  Lib- 
eralism, and  claiming  freedom  from  the  bondage  of  the  letter  and 


138   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


room  for  the  liberty  of  the  spirit.  At  the  same  time,  I  declared 
the  facts  which  become  every  day  clearer  to  me, — the  presence 
and  destructiveness  of  sin,  the  everlasting  love  of  God,  the  power 
of  the  life  of  Christ,  and  the  possibility  of  the  new  and  heavenly 
life,  through  the  working  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  I  told  them  that 
as  fast  as  I  gained  new  light  so  that  what  at  first  was  only  con- 
jecture or  opinion  became  a  conviction,  I  should  impart  it  to  them. 
This  is  one  of  the  very  few  churches  where  I  could  take  such  a 
stand,  and  it  is  worth  much  more  to  me  than  a  large  salary  or 
more  influential  position.  I  shall  not  trouble  them  with  my  specu- 
lations, but  when  I  reach  any  result,  I  shall  feel  free  to  bring  it 
out  plainly. 

In  a  later  letter,  he  adds :  "I  know  that  after  my  six 
months'  preaching  my  people  are  satisfied  with  my  posi- 
tion, although  they  might  not  have  understood  it  earlier.  I 
shall  not  let  the  dread  of  being  called  a  heretic  hinder  me 
in  my  study  of  God's  revelation.  I  shall  always  preach  Life 
more  than  Doctrine.  I  say  little  about  this,  but  thought  it 
best,  as  I  came  into  permanent  relations  with  the  people,  to 
state  my  position  clearly." 

In  February,  Edward  wrote  that  his  church  had  been  in- 
vited to  sit  with  Henry  Ward  Beecher's  Advisory  Council 
in  Plymouth  Church,  Brooklyn. 

Brooklyn,  Feb.  27th,  1876. 
The  Council  works  well.  They  have  become  strongly  in  favor 
of  Beecher,  but  will  hear  both  sides.  Plymouth  has  made  an  ex- 
cellent impression  by  the  free  scope  it  gives  to  the  Council. 
Beecher's  last  speech  was  grand  in  its  subdued  strength.  No 
doctrinal  point  was  under  discussion.  Some  of  the  so-called  bot- 
tom facts  came  to  my  knowledge,  which  threw  a  new  light  on  the 
case.  That  was  the  skeleton  Dr.  Bacon  referred  to.  It  was  a 
memorable  Council. 

March  20th. 

Yesterday,  I  accepted  an  invitation  to  address  the  Sunday  after- 
noon Temperance  meeting,  at  which  I  expressed  my  views  as  to 
the  use  of  fermented  wine  at  the  Lord's  Supper. 

Poughkeepsie,  April  12th,  1876. 

My  Darling  Mother: — 

I  must  not  forget  my  usual  habit  of 
writing  to  you  on  your  birthday,  and  I  want  you  to  know  how  glad 
I  am  that  you  had  a  birthday.  Not  only  selfishly,  because  it  is 
exceedingly  doubtful  whether  I  should  have  had  a  birthday  if  you 
had  not  had  one,  but  because  I  rejoice  in  your  having  lived.  It 
has  not  all  been  bright,  and  there  are  many  sore  places  in  the 
loving  heart,  but  it  has  been  for  good,  and  out  of  it  all  will  come 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


139 


blessedness.  The  hard  grinding  must  poHsh  and  brighten  the 
character,  so  that  the  soul's  pure  shape  can  be  seen  reflected 
therein  by  God's  light  shining  on  it.  O  my  dear  mother,  what  a 
son  can  give  to  a  mother,  what  a  friend  can  give  to  a  friend,  I  do 
give  to  you.  Can  my  sympathy  be  like  something  put  in  the  bitter 
fountain  to  make  it  sweet?  It  cannot  take  away  the  anguish,  but 
it  may  lighten  the  burden.  And  some  time,  when  that  which  is 
in  part  is  done  away,  that  which  is  perfect  will  come  and  we 
shall  see  face  to  face.    .  . 

I  cannot  give  up  my  picture  of  the  family  all  living  together  for 
a  time,  and  I  think  it  will  be  in  Poughkeepsie.  The  bent  bow 
must  be  relaxed,  and  the  sore  heart  comforted,  and  the  birthdays 
celebrated.    .  . 

Long  life  and  happiness  to  the  darling  mother,  and  many  kisses 
from 

Her  loving  Ned. 

May  1st. 

On  Monday  I  felt  very  tired,  so  I  threw  up  work  and  went  off 
into  the  woods  gathering  May-flowers  which  are  now  on  my  table. 
On  Tuesday  evening,  I  was  at  the  annual  supper  of  the  Young 
Men's  Literary  Club,  which  has  met  every  week  during  the  winter, 
for  the  last  five  years,  having  one  week  a  reading,  another  week 
an  essay,  and  the  third  a  debate. 

On  Thursday  afternoon,  I  drove  out  with  Mrs.  Wiltsie  to  a 
place  about  seven  miles  from  here,  where  I  had  discovered  a 
quantity  of  trailing  arbutus.  It  is  quite  rare  here,  and  few  know 
where  to  find  it.  I  made  up  several  bouquets  and  sent  around 
to  friends.  I  also  sent  some  to  Marblehead  which,  I  hope,  reached 
you  in  good  condition. 

May  isth,  1876. 

My  back  has  not  quite  recovered,  but  do  not  feel  troubled,  for 
the  doctor  says  the  worst  is  over,  only  I  must  be  careful.  Father's 
proposal  to  come  on  and  help  me  is  very  welcome.  The  pleasure 
of  his  society  would  help  me  more  than  anything  else. 

May  29th. 

I  am  looking  forward  with  delight  to  my  vacation  in  Marble- 
head,  making  that  my  headquarters,  and  from  it  visiting  various 
places  along  the  coast.  On  what  part  of  the  Common  is  Abbott 
Hall  to  be  placed? 

Dr.  and  Mrs.  Carter,  one  of  his  families  where  he  was 
quite  at  home,  were  going  to  Europe,  and  wished  him  to  oc- 
cupy their  house  during  his  absence.  And  his  father  was  to 
have  a  room  there  during  his  visit.  Edward  took  his  morn- 
ing oatmeal  there,  his  dinner  at  the  Wiltsie's,  and  his  sup- 
per wherever  he  happened  to  be. 

The  following  letter  by  Mr.  John  Wilkinson  of  New- 
burgh  explains  itself : — 


140   REMIMSCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


One  summer  afternoon.  I  was  on  the  deck  of  the  "Mary  Powell," 
at  the  dock  in  New  York.  While  waiting  for  the  boat  to  start,  I 
was  attracted  by  the  intelligent,  kindly  face  of  an  elderly  gentle- 
man, who  sat  near  me.  Just  before  the  boat  left  the  dock,  a  young 
man,  evidently  a  student,  came  slowly  along— as  if  looking  for 
some  one.  Seeing  the  elderly  man  he  immediately  went  up  to 
him  and  taking  both  hands  in  his.  he  kissed  him,  first  on  one 
cheek  and  then  on  the  other.  All  this  made  a  deep  impression  on 
me. 

I  stopped  at  Poughkeepsie,  where  I  went  to  visit  my  father. 
On  the  Sabbath  morning,  my  father  and  I  attended  the  Congrega- 
tional church.  And  there  in  the  pulpit  were  the  elderly  and  the 
young  man!  After  the  service,  they  came  down  in  front  of  the 
platform  and  administered  the  sacrament.  The  beautiful,  simple 
language  in  which  the  love  of  Christ  was  told  by  both  father  and 
son,  all  combined  to  fix  a  picture  that  will  never  fade. 

Edward  soon  formed  an  acquaintance  with  John  Wilkin- 
son, which  early  ripened  into  a  friendship  for  him  and  his 
wife  that  continued  through  life,  while  for  the  many  little 
girls  of  the  household  he  came  to  have  a  peculiar  af¥ection. 
In  Mr.  Wilkinson's  letter  of  reminiscences,  he  continues : — ■ 

I  remember  a  day  upon  the  Beacons,  the  high  hills  opposite 
Newburgh,  which  were  used  for  beacon  fires  in  Revolutionary 
days.  We  prepared  a  buggy,  with  a  safe  horse  to  take  the 
ladies  over  the  rough  mountain  road,  while  Mr.  Lawrence  and  I 
walked  by  their  side.  After  reaching  the  summit,  we  took  a 
ramble  through  the  woods,  one  of  the  most  enjoyable  of  my  life. 
Your  son's  love  of  nature,  his  close  observation  of  the  shrubs  and 
flowers,  and  of  the  stones  and  rocks,  with  the  keen  manifestations 
of  delight  as  view  after  view  broke  upon  our  vision,  were  pleasant 
to  behold. 

Not  long  before  starting  on  his  missionary  journey  around  the 
world,  he  made  us  a  little  visit.  As  we  were  gathered  at  the  tea- 
table,  he  was  requested  to  ask  the  blessing.  His  glance  around, 
his  broken  words  and  his  silent  tears,  are  precious  remembrances 
to  us. 

He  will  live  in  my  memory  as  one  who  loved  truth  for  truth's 
sake,  a  thorough  student,  with  a  broad  mind,  a  strong  character, 
and  a  loving  heart.  He  will  live  as  one  who  with  scholarly 
tastes  and  a  love  of  culture  and  refinement,  laid  all  this  aside,  that 
he  might  go  down  into  the  slums  to  seek  and  save  that  which  was 
lost.   Ah,  that  will  live  forever. 

July  II. 

Last  week  Monday,  I  took  the  cars  to  Clinton  Corners,  fourteen 
miles  from  Poughkeepsie,  and  found  a  farm  house  on  the  shores 
of  Lake  Upton  where  they  agreed  to  entertain  me  over  the  Fourth. 
I  had  fine  dairy  food,  a  Fourth  of  July  oration  from  a  bull  frog,  and 
the  quietest  Fourth  I  ever  passed  in  this  country. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


141 


Plattsburg,  July  2Sth. 
Here  I  am  with  my  dear,  good  friends,  the  Halls.  They  wish 
you  and  Anna  were  here.  I  left  the  dear  father  well  and  enjoying 
his  place.  The  people  were  much  pleased  with  his  sermon,  Sun- 
day morning.  I  expect  to  reach  Boston  Tuesday,  and  shall  come 
out  to  Highlandville  and  make  a  little  visit  with  you  at  the  Mills. 

While  at  home,  he  arranged  to  join  Mr.  Thallon  and  his 
nephew,  from  Scotland,  on  a  trip  to  the  White  Mountains. 

Mt.  Washington,  Aug  30th. 
I  am  installed  as  cashier  and  dragoman.  Our  talk  is  mainly 
on  literature,  and  that  on  its  ethical  side,  contrasting  the  effects. 
The  railroad  is  the  chief  change  since  I  came  here  with  Bob  Hume, 
in  our  college  days.  Everything  seems  the  grander,  because  I 
have  just  come  from  the  sea,  and  its  expanse  and  its  waves  seem  in- 
terwoven with  the  mountain  scenes.  In  this  fog.  we  are  all  of 
us  mystics,  baptized  in  the  cloud.  We  are  waiting  here,  hoping 
that  it  may  clear  off  before  we  leave. 

The  annual  meeting  of  the  American  Board  was  this 
year  in  Hartford,  and  the  father  and  mother,  son  and 
daughter,  were  all  guests  at  Gov.  Catlin's.  From  Hartford 
they  went  to  the  Centennial  Exhibition,  at  Philadelphia, 
and  for  a  fortnight  were  most  hospitably  entertained  by 
their  friend.  Miss  Anable,  a  niece  of  Mrs.  Pres.  Nott,  whom 
they  met  there. 

In  November,  from  his  study  in  the  church,  Edward 
writes : — 

When  I  have  had  such  a  steady  and  pleasant  pressure  of  work, 
1  do  not  know.  Last  week,  a  Woman's  Aid  Society  was  formed 
in  our  church,  from  which  I  hope  much.  Yesterday,  I  preached 
to  young  men  and  women,  and  last  evening,  began  my  sermons 
on  the  Parables.  I  am  now  a  tripod.  One  base  of  supply  is  here, 
where  I  study,  another  at  Dr.  Carter's,  where  I  sleep,  and  the 
third  at  Mr.  Wiltsie's,  where  I  take  my  meals.  There  was  no 
other  way  to  arrange  it.  I  am  glad  to  know  that  Meta's  poem  is 
out. 

Nov.  13th. 

Yes,  I  think  there  is  more  truth  in  Stopford  Brooke  than  the  other, 
though  I  believe  there  is  something  beyond  that.  I  do  not  think 
love  needs  "indefiniteness"  but  that,  if  it  be  true,  it  will  have  many 
unconscious  elements,  undeveloped  beauties,  that  must  have  time 
to  bloom  and  ripen,  which  would  be  destroyed  by  too  sudden 
seizure,  or  too  curious  a  search.  Not  because  of  "mystery"  or 
"parables,"  but  because  everything  that  lives,  should  always  grow, 
and  in  everything  that  grows  there  must  be  a  hidden,  unformed 


142    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


part  which  dies  if  exposed.  Here  is  the  room  for  trust,  that  must 
be  a  part  of  every  deep  affection,  which  is  willing  from  what  it 
does  see  to  infer  deeper  and  better  things  that  can  never  fully  ap- 
pear. This  would  all  be  caused,  not  so  much  by  the  sensitiveness 
of  character,  as  by  its  incompleteness  and  gradual  development. 
To  utter  a  feeling  is  often  to  define,  correct  and  strengthen  it.  I 
am  not  an  advocate  of  too  much  reticence,  yet  when  the  best 
things  one  has  to  give  come  back  from  those  to  whom  they  have 
been  offered,  labelled  with  names  most  diverse  from  what  they 
are;  when  the  deepest  and  truest  things  are  treated  as  counterfeit 
or  superficial,  it  is  no  wonder  that  some  become  self-contained. 
Stopford  Brooke's  idea  of  friendship  is  too  much  of  a  chase  and 
search,  too  little  of  profession  and  satisfaction,  to  suit  me.  "Curi- 
ous love,"  "eager  interest,"  "expectation," — this  search  for  some- 
thing new,  is  not  the  deepest  in  love.  Nothing  should  be  "claimed," 
I  think,  from  dearest  friends  as  any  "duty  due"  nor  should  we 
"demand  confidence."  But  I  take  the  flower  of  affection,  not  as 
a  botanist,  eager  in  pursuit,  but  as  one  who  reveres  and  loves  the 
rose  for  what  it  is  and  can  become. 

One  speaks,  sometimes,  about  himself,  and  finds,  months  after, 
that  his  words  have  been  entirely  misunderstood,  and  possibly 
harm  done.  So  it  seems  the  best  way  to  say  simply  what  is  neces- 
sary of  one's  self  till  you  find  one  who  by  reaching  the  foundations 
of  your  being,  can  understand  all  you  say. 

Nov.  20th. 

Our  women's  work  goes  on  well.  The  Committees  are  filling 
up,  and  I  shall  soon  have  a  body  of  nine  deaconesses  to  help  me. 
They  develop  a  good  deal  of  enthusiasm,  and  I  don't  know  what 
treasures  we  may  unearth.  Shall  I  tell  you  how  my  evenings,  this 
week,  are  occupied?  Monday,  Quarterly  Meeting  of  Sunday  School 
Union;  Tuesday,  Aid  Society;  Wednesday,  German  Class;  Thurs- 
day, Prayer-Meeting  and  Bible  Class;  Friday,  our  Concert.  And 
the  outside  work  increases  all  the  time. 

I  think  I  gain  in  ease  and  power  of  speaking  without  notes — 
but  I  see  so  much  which  can  and  should  be  done.  What  mysteri- 
ous powers  stand  at  our  disposal,  if  we  will  only  rise  up  to  reach 
them!  if  by  a  true  life,  we  grow  up  into  higher  fields  where 
God's  breath  is  in  the  breezes!  Through  God's  help,  I  can  do 
vastly  more  than  I  have  ever  yet  done,  and  why  should  I  not 
say,  "I  will"?  Does  it  not  depend  on  me  whether  I  grasp  what 
God  offers  me? 

Dec.  nth,  1876. 

What  a  good  prayer-meeting  we  had,  last  Thursday,  on  the 
old  theme  ever  new,  "The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd!"  ...  I  am 
slowly  working  on  into  IMuller's  Doctrine  of  Sin.  It  is  a  grand 
book,  full  of  thought  and  instruction,  and  it  is  a  real  mental  dis- 
cipline to  read  it. 

Dec.  i8th. 

Last  week,  we  had  a  very  successful  New  England  supper.  The 
young  lady  waiters  wore  pretty  costumes,  the  tables  were  well 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  1 43 


laden,  and  the  rooms  were  filled.  We  cleared  about  $190,  quite  a 
sum  to  make  with  only  a  week's  preparation. 

Poughkeepsie,  Study,  Dec.  25th,  1876. 

Evening.  To-day  has  hardly  seemed  like  Christmas,  though  I 
enjoyed  the  children's  gathering.  My  Christmases  at  the  dear  old 
Dingle  Side  in  Connecticut,  and  my  German  ones,  come  before 
me  vividly.  I  suppose  there  will  never  be  any  more  just  like 
those.  My  greatest  pleasure  has  been  the  calling  this  afternoon 
on  some  of  the  sick. 

My  new  desk  in  church  I  like  very  much.  It  seems  like  stepping 
out  from  a  cell  into  the  open  air. 

Poughkeepsie,  Jan.  7th,  1877. 
What  great  advantages  have  I  had;  how  little  have  I  done!  I 
want  to  build  up  in  this  congregation  a  genuine  Christian  life,  true, 
united,  active.  From  the  heart  Christ  must  work  as  an  influence, 
and  where  he  is,  there  must  be  unity.  Is  it  not  vastly  better  to 
bring  Christ  to  them,  in  any  guise,  and  let  him  do  his  own  work 
in  their  hearts,  than  to  insist  on  certain  dogmas  in  respect  to  him? 
I  love  him,  I  revere  him  more  and  more.  But  I  cannot  compre- 
hend him.  I  know  that  the  perfect  man  is  divine — God's  image, 
the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily.  I  know  that  the  germ  of  Christ 
is  in  every  heart,  and  that  Christ,  through  his  life,  historical, 
through  the  inner  spirit,  seeks  to  waken  this  life  in  his  disciples. 
By  doing  his  will,  we  shall  know  concerning  the  doctrine.  And  the 
same  about  sin.  For  myself,  I  wish  to  study  it  in  all  its  bearings, 
origin  and  all,  and,  of  course,  each  part  of  the  system  will  afTect 
every  other  part.  But  those  to  whom  I  speak  have  little  time  for 
abstract  researches.  They  have  sin  in  their  heart  to  contend 
against,  an  actual,  terrible  fact,  and  it  is  on  this  that  they  need 
to  concentrate  their  attention.  Teaching  them  about  its  origin, 
a  mystery  which  no  one  can  fairly  solve,  will  help  them  very 
little  in  their  conflict  with  it,  and  may  rather  divert  their  attention 
from  its  essence.  That  is  what  I  wish  to  discover  and  disclose  to 
them.  To  trace  it  through  its  windings  and  ramifications,  uncov- 
ering the  various  masks  it  wears,  and  showing  them  the  same 
hideous  fact  preying  on  their  lives, — that  is  what  I  would  do  for 
them,  as  well  as  for  myself.  And  Miiller's  work  is  full  of  grand 
hints  and  strong  reasoning  which  I  can  respect  even  where  I  can- 
not accept  it. 

Yesterday  morning,  I  preached  my  second  sermon  on  Giving. 
These  sermons  speak  to  me,  if  to  no  one  else.  I  feel  that  I  ought 
to  give  more  wisely.  What  right  have  I  to  unhelpful  luxuries, 
when  so  many  are  without  the  necessities  of  life?  I  would  not  give 
up  what  may  contribute  to  the  higher  aesthetic  culture  and  produc- 
tiveness, but  any  mere  appendage  should  go. 


CHAPTER  Xill. 


GROWING  JOY  IN  SERVICE. 

God  did  anoint  thee  with  his  odorous  oil 
To  wrestle,  not  to  reign.    So  others  shall 
Take  patience,  labor,  to  their  heart  and  hand 
From  thy  hand,  and  thy  heart,  and  thy  brave  cheer, 
And  God's  grace  fructify  through  thee  to  all. 

— Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 

In  the  spring,  Edward's  sister  was  taken  down  with 
that  disease  of  a  dreadful  name  and  more  dreadful  charac- 
ter, cerebro-spinal  meningitis.  Edward  was  full  of  sym- 
pathy and  desire  to  help. 

Feb.  2d,  1877. 

How  I  long  to  be  with  you !  On  my  bed  I  sometimes  see  you 
weary,  and  Anna  suffering,  and  can  hardly  endure  to  stay  here. 
But  I  may  be  of  more  service  later. 

Feb.  sth. 

I  have  been  on  the  point  of  starting  for  home,  but  will  wait 
till  I  hear,  to-morrow.  If  the  dear  child  is  failing,  of  course,  I 
must  come.  I  rely  on  you  to  send  for  me  when  needed.  Let  me 
know  at  once,  by  telegraph  if  necessary.    I  shall  wait  with  anxiety. 

Later.  I  have  sent  a  dispatch  and  await  an  answer.  I  pray 
earnestly  for  you  all,  dear  ones.    Keep  courage,  mother. 

Feb.  I2th. 

Yours  of  Saturday  has  just  come.  I  want  to  have  you  try  the 
blue-light  cure.  I  enclose  a  slip  giving  particulars.  Many  are 
putting  blue  panes  into  their  windows.  When  in  New  York,  Mrs. 
Wiltsie  consulted  two  physicians  about  her,  and  they  suggested 
that  if  at  any  time  she  seemed  sinking,  an  infusion  of  blood  might 
be  resorted  to  as  the  last  resource.  I  am  delighted  that  Anna 
bears  her  sickness  so  well.  And  you  will  rest  in  the  strength  of 
God  which  we  learn  only  when  we  are  weakest.  Kiss  Roslein 
for  me.   She  must  be  a  pale  rose  now. 

Early  in  March,  he  made  his  long  anticipated  visit,  and 
on  his  return  writes  : — 

March  sth. 

My  visit  home  seems  like  a  dream.  It  touched  me  very  much 
to  have  you  come  to  me  as  you  did,  the  last  morning.   The  memory 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


of  those  days  will  be  a  happy  one,  and  I  trust  not  without  a 
lasting  influence.  Poor  Mamma  and  Roslein,  having  a  good  cry 
together.  Why,  I  don't  think  I  am  worth  shedding  tears  about.  .  . 
If  you  can  find  the  poem  of  H.  H.  "My  Other  Self,"  which  appeared 
in  the  Independent  a  year  ago,  I  shall  be  glad. 

March  nth. 

I  am  sorry  Anna  gains  so  slowly,  and  fear  I  should  not  bear  it 
as  well.  It  would  gall  me  to  think  of  my  work  lying  undone,  until 
I  should  have  learned  how  much  less  important  in  God's  sight 
is  the  individual  work  than  each  one  supposes. 

I  will  ask  you  to  use  the  fifty  dollars  I  send  to  help  you  through 
this  time.  I  don't  want  Anna  to  lack  any  delicacy  she  may  desire. 
I  am  sorry  to  hear  of  her  pull-back.  It  must  be  very  hard  for  all 
of  you.  But  it's  a  long  road  that  knows  no  turning. 

To  the  appreciation  of  his  generosity  sent  him,  in  reply 
he  writes :  "Don't  call  me  'generous.'  You  humiliate  me. 
It  is  only  a  hint  of  a  return. 

"How  old  we  are  getting  to  be,  sixty-four  and  thirty ! 
Four  years  more  and  I  shall  be  half  as  old  as  you.  How 
long  will  it  take  me  to  catch  up  with  you? 

"Poor  mamma,  crying  in  her  sleep !  as  if  it  were  not 
enough  to  cry  when  she  is  awake,  dear  soul !" 

Edward  had  been  requested  to  teach  German  in  one  of 
the  academies,  but  declined,  preferring  to  give  free  instruc- 
tion to  any  among  his  own  people  who  desired  to  study  that 
language,  and  also  to  friends  outside  his  parish.  After  the 
first  class  was  well  under  way,  a  second  class  of  beginners 
was  formed.  He  had  only  time  to  give  a  weekly  lesson  to 
each  class.  They  made  rapid  progress,  however,  and,  al- 
though that  was  not  part  of  the  program,  more  than  one 
happy  marriage  was  a  result  of  these  classes. 

April  i6th. 

Don't  you  think  faith  is  a  larger  word  than  trust?  Trust  seems 
to  me  the  receptive  side  of  faith,  but  then  there  is  the  active  or 
assimilating  side.  .  .  As  to  truthfulness,  when  we  all  come  to 
see  that  the  truth  spoken  in  love  is  the  greatest  and  sweetest 
kindness  possible,  I  think  we  shall  gain  more  trust  from  one 
another.  I  certainly  should  have  far  greater  confidence  in  a 
person  who  acted  on  such  principles,  than  in  one  who  regarded 
my  feelings  at  the  expense  of  perfect  sincerity. 

Study,  April  30th. 
We   have   started  a   ministers'   Monday   morning   meeting,  of 


146   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


which  I  am  secretary.  We  talk  of  forming  a  brotherhood  of 
churches  for  the  suppression  of  the  Hquor  traf?ic.  What  do  you 
and  father  think  of  Dr.  Reynolds  for  our  work?  There  is  some 
talk  of  getting  Murphy. 

.  .  .  I  find  both  more  good  and  more  evil  in  people  than  I 
used  to  suppose.  Optimism  and  pessimism  are  alike  false.  One 
must  have  both  owls'  and  eagles'  eyes  really  to  know  men.  Some 
people  you  may  see  forever  and  not  know  them. 

Study,  May  3d. 

It  seems  to  me  that  discrimination  of  truth  depends  on  cultivating 
the  moral  insight  in  that  direction,  and  that  truth  is  to  be  won 
rather  by  deciding  in  practical  cases  as  they  come  up,  in  the 
light  of  all  the  circumstances,  than  by  speculating  on  cases  which 
have  not  arisen.  Truth  has  relation  to  moral,  responsible  beings. 
To  seek  by  word,  sign  or  silence  to  produce  a  false  impression 
is  untruthful,  is  it  not?  To  leave  a  person  with  a  wrong  impres- 
sion, where  he  is  responsible  to  you  for  the  error,  and  no  higher 
reason  constrains  you,  is  untruthful.  A  stratagem  in  war  is,  of 
course,  false  in  itself.  The  only  thing  that  can  be  said  is  that  war 
severs  moral  relations,  and  when  men  kill,  they  will  deceive.  In 
the  case  of  sick  persons,  I  believe  deception  often  does  more 
harm  than  good.  We  are  so  entangled  in  artificial  customs  that 
we  can  only  gradually  readjust  our  relations  to  them.  Everything 
must  have  its  form,  but  if  it  is  mere  form,  is  it  not  false?  I  think 
truth  is  the  greatest  kindness  that  can  be  shown  one,  where  it  is 
spoken  in  love. 

At  another  time,  Edward  wrote : — 

There  can  be  no  true  friendship  between  two  persons  where 
one  of  them  feels,— "I  cannot  ever  speak  of  the  serious  things  of 
life  with  my  friend,  or  venture  upon  any  criticism."  If  any  one 
should  treat  me  thus  should  I  not  have  reason  to  feel  that  he  was 
not  a  true  friend, — as  if  I  were  only  to  be  coddled,  morally  as 
well  as  physically?  Loyalty  and  frankness  are  essentia  1  to  any 
true  friendship. 

From  his  earhest  years,  truthfulness  was  one  of  Edward's 
ideals.  And  perfect  truthfulness  between  kinsfolk  and 
friends  he  regarded  as  of  the  utmost  importance,  often 
speaking  of  it  in  his  letters.  For  one  of  his  bulletins,  the  last 
year  he  was  with  us,  he  selected  a  poem  of  James  Buck- 
ham's  so  expressive  of  his  own  ideas,  that  I  cannot  forbear 
inserting  it. 

THE  BETTER  WAY. 

I  think  there's  blindness  in  the  way  we  seek. 
Sometimes,  to  help  each  other  here  on  earth. 

Too  oft  the  poor  conforming  word  we  speak. 
Too  much  we  praise  the  dubious  word  and  worth. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  147 


Oh,  for  that  courage  and  that  better  love 

Which  so  apply  truth's  brave  and  wholesome  test 

That  men  are  helped  to  rise  themselves  above, 
And  so  by  steps  ascending  reach  their  best! 

Leave  feeble  charities  of  speech  unsaid; 

They  add  not  truly  to  thy  brother's  weal. 
But  do  thou  kindle  stars  above  his  head, 

And  wake  in  him  betimes  a  loftier  zeal. 

The  Study. 

My  room  is  charming  these  summer  days.  I  have  all  the 
windows  open,  and  in  the  morning  I  sometimes  lie  quietly  on  my 
couch,  drinking  in  all  around  me.  This  must  be  a  fine  day  for 
Roslein,  breezes  and  bright  sunshine.  On  Thursday,  I  walked 
about  eight  miles. 

June  9th. 

I  will  come  home  and  help  Anna  on  her  journeyings,  if  you  need 
me.  It  will  be  delightful,  if  she  is  well  enough  to  travel.  You  speak 
of  cutting  her  hair,  but  be  sure  it  will  help  her  before  you  do  it. 
I  would  not  sacrifice  that  beautiful  head  of  hair  to  no  purpose.  Dr. 
Carter  thinks  there  may  be  no  need  for  this,  and  I  hope  it  may 
not  be  necessary. 

July  lotli. 

I  spent  a  good  part  of  the  afternoon  in  the  summer  house  at 
Mr.  Smillie's,  Hill  Side.  The  sweet,  placid  river,  the  banks  oppo- 
site, firm,  cool,  refreshing  in  the  wooded  heights,  the  projecting 
point  where  the  edge  cut  into  the  water,  and  was  mirrored  there, 
the  hazy  indistinct  mingling  of  water  and  shore  of  deep,  inde- 
terminate color, — farther  off,  hills  shadow-darkened,  with  thick 
woods  everywhere.  Bright,  sweet  slopes,  the  blue  Catskills 
in  the  distance,  sky  blue  and  snowy.  I  lay  upon  a  slope  and  loved 
everything  I  saw.  The  bits  of  stone  and  grains  of  earth  were  dear 
to  me,  simply  because  they  were  things.  Their  existence  was  a 
sweet  fact.  I  felt  no  need  of  added  charm  to  win  my  love.  They 
were  real,  firm,  substantial  existences.  Is  not  that  enough?  Not 
only  every  living, — every  created  thing  is  a  God-thought.  How 
refreshing  to  be  taught  by  plain  facts  to  yield  to  the  simplest 
impressions,  to  draw  from  nature  instead  of  putting  into  it, — to 
follow  the  order  of  things  instead  of  the  order  of  thought,  for 
the  order  of  things  is  the  order  of  God's  thoughts,  and  should 
be  of  ours. 

July  14th. 

I  need  a  more  engrossing  sense  of  my  high  work, — not  of  its 
parts  and  details,  perhaps,  but  of  its  single  aim.  I  need  to  be  car- 
ried on  by  a  flow  of  spirit,  which  makes  life  one.  I  need  more 
consecutiveness  of  thought,  patience  to  follow  suggestions  to 
their  source,  power  to  link  thoughts  together  and  to  bring  all 
under  one  idea.  My  thought  and  work  is  too  fragmentary.  I 
need  more  earnestness,  joy  in  prayer,  more  consciousness  of  God, 
not  merely  as  in  nature,  which  is  growing  very  strong,  but  as  in 
the  soul.    I  want  simple  honesty  in  word  and  act  and  thought. 


148   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Read  a  little  in  Burrough's  IVake  Robin.  Birds  chiefly.  "Blue- 
bird with  the  earth-tinge  on  his  breast  and  the  sky-tinge  on  his 
back." 

Nothing  is  so  credulous  as  suspicion.  If  you  cannot  disprove 
an  evil  report,  it  should  be  brought  directly  to  the  one  whom  it 
concerns. 

Study,  July  20th. 
As  to  my  work,  I  have  preached  twelve  sermons  on  the  Par- 
ables in  the  evening,  and  five  sermons  in  the  morning,  on  walking 
as  He  walked.  Have  led  the  Bible  class  in  the  Old  Testament 
and  the  New;  Prayer-Meeting  every  week;  Missionary  Concerts, 
Sociables ;  have  finished  exegesis  with  notes,  following  Meyer  and 
Protest  Bibel,  also  consulting  De  Wette. 

It  was  arranged  that,  in  his  vacation,  after  a  brief  visit  to 
Marblehead,  Edward  should  accompany  his  mother  and  sis- 
ter to  Vermont.  It  was  one  of  his  peculiarities,  as  some 
called  it,  that  he  did  not  believe  in  hunting  and  fishing, 
any  more  than  in  butchering,  for  mere  amusement.  But  he 
greatly  enjoyed  an  excursion  in  a  fishing  vessel,  and  had  no 
scruples  against  catching  fish  for  practical  purposes. 

Linden  Home,  July  27th,  1877. 
Yesterday  morning,  father  and  I  rose  at  three,  and  by  four  were 
at  the  dock,  where  we  met  Meservey  and  his  crew,  and  rowed  at 
once  to  the  Dauntless.  We  were  soon  loose  from  our  moorings, 
but  there  was  fog  and  little  wind,  so  that  we  moved  slowly  till 
near  Lowell  Island,  and  being  almost  becalmed,  decided  to  fish 
for  mackerel.  My  attention  was  soon  called  to  a  strange  sight. 
The  water  was  literally  alive  with  thousands  of  fishes,  called  blue 
backs.  They  swam  carelessly  to  and  fro,  a  few  mackerel  among 
them,  as  if  basking  in  the  sunshine.  They  were  everywhere,  yet 
all  at  once  even  as  I  was  looking  at  them,  they  were  gone.  How 
they  went,  or  where,  I  could  not  tell.  I  suppose  something  must 
have  frightened  them.  Soon  they  reappeared,  and  again  dis- 
appeared. We  had  a  fine  breakfast  of  fresh  mackerel,  and  then 
went  on  with  the  breeze.  Most  of  the  morning  I  lay  stretched 
on  the  deck,  dozing,  thinking,  dreaming.  The  water  was  clear, 
with  only  a  long,  rocking  swell.  I  found,  as  I  did  last  year,  that 
the  men  were  good-hearted  and  thoroughly  courteous.  About 
five  o'clock,  we  reached  home,  taking  with  us  a  load  of  had- 
dock, cod  and  mackerel. 

Fitchburg.  July  30th. 
This  morning  was  foggy,  but  we  started,  and  with  great  care, 
took  Anna  to  the  station,  bags  and  baggage  abounding.  At 
Boston,  our  good  friend,  Mr.  Courtis,  helped  us  manage  a  care- 
ful but  quick  transfer  to  the  cars.  The  dear  girl  was  rejoiced  at 
the  change  after  six  months'  confinement.  We  reached  here  at 
1.20  and  drove  up  the  hill  to  Mr.  Mason's  pleasant  home. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  149 


Pittsford,  Vt.,  Aug.  ist. 
Yesterday,  at  half-past  two,  we  arrived  at  this  place.  Anna  was 
somewhat  tired,  but  to-day  is  feeling  very  well.  Uncle  Samuel 
has  been  reading  to  us  about  great-grandfather  Woods,  of  Prince- 
ton, Mass.,  a  schoolmaster,  called  philosopher  Woods,  also  of 
great-grandfather  Wheeler,  a  chaplain  in  the  Revolution,  who 
helped  stake  out  the  ground  the  night  before  the  battle  of  Bunker 
Hill,  and  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Weld,  who  was  on  a  vessel  captured 
by  a  French  pirate,  on  her  way  to  join  her  husband, — a  cousin  of 
Theodore  Weld, — in  Jamaica,  and  her  daughter,  Caroline  Weld, 
whose  home  for  a  time  was  with  grandfather  Woods,  at  Andover, 
and  whose  life  was  full  of  romance. 

Pittsford  lies  on  the  back  of  a  hilly  slope,  which  suns  itself  all 
day.  Mountains  around,  the  air  nectar,  and  a  creek  running  be- 
neath it.  What  is  it  that  these  hills  and  peaks  awake  within  one's 
heart?  As  if  there  were  mountains  and  valleys  there  which  greet 
their  sister  forms,  so  that  the  inner  and  outer  nature  are  wedded? 
Everything  I  see  or  touch  seems  beautiful,  seems  sacred.  The 
very  dust  beneath  my  feet  I  love,  and  stroke  and  press  tenderly, 
not  for  what  it  is  to  me,  but  for  itself.  It  seems  often  as  if  all  I 
behold  were  only  the  inner  being,  spread  out  in  plain  shapes  be- 
fore me,  an  echo  of  my  thought,  a  reflection  of  my  feeling.  Yet 
it  is  ratiier  the  other  way.  Nature  has  deposited  its  shapes  on  the 
mind's  sensitive  plate;  these  are  interwoven  with  life's  joy  and 
sorrow,  and  when  the  one  is  revived,  the  others  also  awake  as 
part  of  the  picture.  Here  is  a  great  part  of  Nature's  charm,  that 
it  thus  recalls  every  feeling  we  have  experiencd.  I  love  simply  to 
surrender  myself  to  what  I  see,  lying  passive  for  every  sight  and 
sound  to  sweep  over  me,  and  say  what  it  will,  to  think  it,  not 
myself,  and  to  pierce  into  the  heart  of  things, — to  drop  my  own 
fancies  and  see  things  as  they  are. 

Seeing  Mr.  Hall,  the  pastor  here,  I  realize  the  wonderful  thing 
it  is  to  have  in  every  village  one  man,  at  least,  of  thought  and 
training,  who  shall  speak  to  people  of  spiritual  things,  and  live 
among  them  a  life  of  faith  and  truth.  A  woman  also  among 
women,  who  shall  show  a  life  of  grace  and  charity.  Their  homes 
too  can  be  centers  of  culture  and  piety.  But  what  an  empty  word 
is  culture!    What  do  we  cultivate? — that  is  the  question. 

Champlain,  Aug.  4th. 

In  the  old  haunts  again,  among  old  and  dear  friends.  Mother 
and  Anna  are  delightfully  situated  at  the  Deweys,  and  I  am  stay- 
ing at  the  Doolittles. 

How  the  old  life  comes  back  to  me!  Those  sweet,  quiet  years! 
Those  days  are  woven  in  with  these  scenes — time  and  space,  the 
warp  and  woof  of  life!  How  unknown  is  the  future,  how  quietly, 
unwittingly  we  go  on  to  meet  our  fate!  How  carelessly  we  sail  into 
seas  where  storms  await  us!  No  shadow  alarms  us,  till  the  bolt 
falls,  yet  we  often  shape  it  ourselves— our  own  hands  forge  the 
bolt. 

Aug.  9. 

Am  now  at  the  Cook's,  in  my  old  study,  where  I  have  written  so 


150    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


many  sermons  and  letters.  Lawrence  is  a  beautiful,  healthy  boy, 
but  rather  shy.  But,  verily,  this  continuous  feasting  is  trying  to 
the  constitution.  The  having  the  fatted  calf  killed  for  one  three 
times  a  day  is  too  much. 

Edward  went  to  Plattsburg  for  a  visit  to  his  friends,  the 
Halls,  his  mother  and  sister  afterward  joining  them.  One 
evening,  Mr.  Hall  and  Edward  gave  a  pantomime  entertain- 
ment for  the  benefit  of  Anna.  The  pantomime  represented 
the  visit  of  a  sister  of  charity  to  a  dying  soldier,  at  which 
said  sister — Mr.  Hall — slyly  picked  the  pocket  of  the  soldier, 
which  was  Edward's  part.  As  he  was  not  prepared  for  this 
performance,  he  could  not  repress  his  bursts  of  laughter, 
which  were  very  improper  for  a  dying  man.  This  added  an 
unexpected  feature,  and  so  amused  Mrs.  Hall  that  the  tears 
rolled  down  her  cheeks. 

Leaving  his  mother  and  sister  under  the  kind  care  of  his 
friends,  Edward  started  for  his  anticipated  trip  up  the  Sag- 
uenay. 

Chicoutini  on  Saguenay,  on  Steamer  Union,  Aug.  22A. 

At  head  of  navigation,  235  miles  from  Quebec.  Here,  in  1635, 
Jacques  Cartier  and  his  companion  landed,  and  sixty  or  seventy 
years  later,  traders  and  priests.  The  shores  were  then  covered  by 
rich  timber.  Dark  and  awful  the  Saguenay  stole  out  from  its 
mysterious  shades  and  frowning  cliflFs.  What  was  there  to  at- 
tract men  in  this  severe  climate?  Fish  and  furs,  the  hope  of  gold, 
"La  Bras  d'Or,"  which,  when  shipped  to  France,  turned  out  iron 
pyrites.  Above  all,  with  many,  was  the  hope  to  save  souls  and 
win  new  sway  for  the  Catholic  faith.  What  daring  audacity  to 
face  all  these  terrors  for  an  invisible  cause,  a  distant  success! 

A  Catholic  church  towers  up  in  all  these  villages,  a  sublime 
witness  to  the  superiority  of  things  eternal.  We  neared  Tadousac 
and  the  mouth  of  the  Saguenay,  just  at  sunset.  The  sun  sank  in 
golden  splendor  behind  the  heights,  while  the  few  light  clouds  in 
the  west  caught  the  aureate  tinge,  and  seemed  like  golden  rockets 
dragging  a  train,  or  like  flies  that  dart  up  a  stream,  rippling  the 
water  behind  them.  A  cold  chill  swept  down  the  stream,  as  we 
entered  it.  High,  steep  cliffs  were  on  each  side.  At  the  left  it 
was  dark  in  the  shade.  On  the  right,  the  moon  was  shining  on 
the  reddish  cliffs,  which  remind  one  now  of  the  Palisades,  now  of 
the  Scotch  Highlands.  Eternite  and  Trinite  are  the  points  of 
wonder,  which  make  everything  else  seem  puny.  We  came  upon 
them  about  eleven,  the  moon  being  two  thirds  up  the  sky.  We 
sailed  right  under  them,  till,  suddenly,  the  moon  was  blotted  out, 
and  Eternite   frowned  awfully  down  upon  us,  its  huge,  triangular 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


bulk  seeming  to  rise  out  of  eternity's  abyss.  It  was  deep  and  dark 
and  fearful,  till,  suddenly,  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  the  moon 
shone  again.  Then,  passing  the  bay,  the  friendlier  domes  of 
Trinite  came  near.  I  cannot  describe,  I  could  not  fully  realize 
the  feeling  with  which  I  passed  into  that  dreadful  shadow.  For 
some  time  afterward  I  walked  the  deck  and  tried  to  let  the  clifTs, 
only  less  gloomy  than  Eternite,  impress  themselves  on  me.  Per- 
fectly clear  the  night,  stern,  unchanging  the  gloom.  But  I  shall 
put  most  of  my  adjectives  in  my  journal.  I  send  these!!!!!!!!!  and 
you  can  supply  the  words.  This  morning,  I  have  been  to  mass  in  the 
wooden  church,  where  a  sweet-voiced  priest,  with  an  attendant,  went 
through  the  service,  while  a  few  peasants  were  seated,  others  com- 
ing in,  and  gazing  tourists  behind  them.  It  was  impressive  to  see 
the  calm  indifference  to  all  earthly  things  with  which  he  went  on, 
wholly  wrapped  in  the  mysteries  of  religion.  A  wonderful  thing, 
any  way,  to  behold  the  church  planted  here,  forever  testifying  to 
rude  people  of  an  invisible  world. 

From  Quebec,  Edward  went  to  Champlain,  riding  up 
from  Rouse's  Point  in  a  baggage-wagon  and  taking  his 
friends  by  surprise.  On  Monday,  he  joined  his  mother  and 
sister  in  Plattsburg.   He  writes  in  his  journal : — 

I  found  Anna  much  better.  While  there  I  gathered  quite  a 
geological  cabinet  of  trilobites  and  fossil  shells  and  glacier- 
scratches.  We  left,  yesterday,  for  Burlington;  were  met  by  Mr. 
Francis,  a  college  room-mate  of  father's  at  Dartmouth,  who  has 
a  beautiful  home  on  Prospect  Street.  Mrs.  Hill,  daughter  of  Gov. 
Crafts  of  Vermont,  an  old  friend  of  father's,  and  now  a  neighbor 
of  our  host,  told  us,  last  night,  of  an  escapade  of  father's: — that, 
when  a  boy,  he  was  very  fond  of  dancing,  and  once  crept  into  the 
church  through  a  window  and  carried  ofif  the  fiddle  to  be  used  in 
a  dance  at  the  Governor's.  On  hearing  this  report,  father  wrote 
an  amusing  letter,  utterly  contradicting  the  story. 

Poughkeepsie,  Sept.  3rd,  1877. 
It  is  pleasant  to  know  that  Anna  has  gained  so  much.  What 
kind  friends  we  have  everywhere!  And  what  a  delightful  visit  at 
Burlington,  a  most  charming  place !  Prof.  Moses  Coit  Tyler  has 
been  here,  and  seems  gratified  by  what  he  saw  and  heard  of  the 
church. 

Prof.  Tyler,  now  of  Cornell,  was  at  that  time  in  Ann  Ar- 
bor, Michigan,  from  which  place,  after  his  visit  to  Pough- 
keepsie, he  wrote  to  Edward's  mother:  "Whatever  may 
happen  to  your  son,  or  his  church,  so  fine  a  spirit  as  his  is  a 
perpetual  victory.  There  is  but  one  opinion  about  him — 
that  his  discreet,  self-denying  life,  united  with  his  sunny 


152   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


and  generous  manner,  had  won  for  him  the  love  and  con- 
fidence of  all,  but  that  the  old  prejudices  against  Congrega- 
tionalism were  deeply  rooted  in  the  Dutch  society  there, 
and  would  take  time  to  overcome.  For  myself,  I  must  say 
that  I  heard  him  preach  with  almost  unbounded  satisfac- 
tion. The  discourse  was  masterly  in  thought,  diction  and 
delivery,  sufifused  by  the  spirit  of  Christ,  and  every  way 
moving  and  impressive.  The  fortunes  of  that  church  are  one 
thing — not  certain.  The  future  of  young  Edward  Lawrence 
is  quite  another  matter.  With  his  gifts,  with  his  fine,  apos- 
tolic, wise  nature,  there  must  come  a  very  sweet  and  bounti- 
ful reward  for  these  years  of  small  things,  borne  with  a 
spirit  not  small." 

Great  simplicity  and  modesty  were  marked  charactertis- 
tics  of  Edward,  and  not  caring  to  incur  the  risk  of  marring 
these,  his  mother  never  showed  him  Prof.  Tyler's  letter, 
which,  since  his  departure,  she  regrets.  But  wisely,  or  un- 
wisely, knowing  how  many  flattering  words  are  said  to  min- 
isters, though  often  in  all  sincerity,  it  was  not  her  habit  to  re- 
peat to  her  son  the  very  favorable  opinions  often  expressed 
concerning  him. 

Sept.  loth. 

I  have  been  catching  up  with  the  course  of  things,  so  far  as 
possible.  It  is  good  to  feel  fresh  vigor  for  the  work  of  preaching. 
I  shall  make  a  more  definite  effort  to  get  hold  of  our  young  men. 
The  careful  study  I  am  making  of  Paul's  life  and  letters  in  con- 
nection with  my  Bible  class  is  very  fruitful. 

Oct.  1877. 

At  the  meeting  of  the  American  Board  in  Providence,  one  of  the 
pleasantest  things  was  to  be  with  father.  .  .  In  New  York,  we 
called  on  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Schauffler,  and  it  was  delightful  to  see  the 
two  venerable  men  embrace  one  another.  Dr.  Smart  wanted  me  to  go 
to  the  Congregational  Council  in  his  place,  as  I  am  alternate,  but 
I  could  not  spare  time  or  money. 

Among  the  many  families  where  Edward  felt  at  home 
were  the  Dudleys,  the  father  being  one  of  the  early  pillars 
of  the  church.  Part  of  a  letter  from  the  son,  Guilford  Dud- 
ley, is  here  introduced  : — 

My  first  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Lawrence  was  when  he  came 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  i53 


here  as  our  pastor.  I  took  to  him  at  once,  and  always  had  a  warm 
place  for  him  in  my  heart.  I  was  thrown  much  with  him,  from 
the  fact  that  I  was  superintendent  of  the  Sunday  School  and  also 
a  trustee  of  the  church.  I  shall  not  soon  forget  the  many  delight- 
ful hours  that  I  spent  in  the  study  with  him,  he  at  his  desk  and  I 
in  the  brown  chair.  His  presence  in  our  home  was  always  welcome. 
We  never  made  company  of  him,  but  he  sat  down  at  our  table 
as  one  of  the  family.  I  was  associated  with  him  in  Charity  Organ- 
ization work,  and  when  he  left  the  city,  his  mantle  never  found 
fitting  shoulders. 

Mr.  Dudley's  wife,  one  of  the  most  active  workers  in  the 

church,  and  who  was  universally  loved  and  esteemed,  has 

been  called  to  her  heavenly  home.   I  quote  a  few  lines  from 

a  letter  she  wrote  to  Edward's  sister : — 

All  day  we  have  been  heavy  of  heart,  but  have  not  forgotten  to 
turn  in  sympathy  to  his  bereaved  mother,  sister  and  betrothed. 
Many  testimonies  will  come  to  you  of  the  influence  wrought  by 
his  marvellously  rounded  life.  But  I  will  speak  only  of  what  he 
was  to  us,  personally.  He  endeared  himself  to  our  household, 
sharing  our  common  joys  and  sorrows.  In  a  letter  written  just 
after  my  mother  "fell  asleep,"  he  alluded  to  my  added  treasure  in 
heaven,  saying,  "I  want  to  give  you  one  hand  of  rejoicing  for  her 
and  for  your  assurance  of  her  blessedness.  Then  I  have  the  other 
hand  to  give  you  in  sympathy  for  yourself." 

June  19th. 

Yesterday  we  had  a  floral  service  for  the  Sunday  School,  the 
subject  being  "Cross  and  Crown."  The  children  had  about  a 
hundred  bouquets,  which  they  brought  up  as  they  repeated  their 
verses  for  making  the  cross,  while  I  crowned  it  with  a  wreath  of 
laurel.  I  led  the  Sunday  School  in  all  their  singing  and  by  night 
was  very  tired. 

June  2oth. 

A  delightful  excursion  with  the  Wiltsies  to  Mr.  Benson  Lossing's. 
The  superb  view  reminds  me  of  Wordsworth's  "Evening  Volun- 
tary." Under  a  sky  of  clearest  blue,  slightly  hazy  at  the  horizon, 
a  few  spots  and  streaks  of  delicate  cloud  to  the  southwest,  I 
stand  on  a  rail  fence,  woods  at  my  back,  where  a  thrush  sin.?s, 
bees  buzzing  around  me.  We  are  on  a  gently  sloping  hill,  one 
thousand  feet  above  the  sea.  Before  me  rolling  meadow  lands, 
rye  and  daisy  fields,  white  as  snow.  A  girdle  of  varied  hills 
north,  south  and  east,  with  mounds  and  valleys.  Beyond  that  a 
second,  distant  girdle.  A  few  woods  and  groves,  stretching  along 
the  slopes,  and  crowning  the  summit.  A  charming,  graceful 
view— nearness  for  detail,  distant  blue,— suggestions.  Everything 
sleeps  this  noon,  but  bees  and  birds.  Is  this  a  dream?  then  wak- 
ing would  be  pain.  The  scene  casts  sweet,  forgiving  light  on 
the  past. 

,  ,  .  June  22d. 

1  wrote  a  sermon  this  morning.    My  preaching  tends  too  much 


154   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


to  be  analytic,  needs  more  vigor  and  plain,  common  life.  I  must 
be  more  with  business  men.  How  many  of  them  advertise  hon- 
estly? Finished  Water  Babies  this  afternoon.  Bright,  witty, 
pregnant.    Loses  himself,  sometimes,  I  think,  in  his  symbolism. 

June  26th. 

I  had  a  charming  drive  with  Mrs.  Wiltsie,  before  breakfast.  We 
started  at  half-past  five,  reaching  home  by  half-past  seven.  How 
strange  people  will  sleep  so  late ! 

Took  a  walk  after  the  prayer-meeting  to  Morgan  Hill.  Here 
richer  and  sweeter  than  any  symphony  was  the  blowing  of  the 
wind  through  the  trees  in  the  moonlight!  I  seemed  to  fall  away 
and  lose  myself  in  kind  waves  of  sound.  Last  night,  at  the  con- 
cert, I  felt  gloomy  and  misanthropic.  For  all  mankind  I  cared 
little,  and  wanted  little  from  them.  How  much  we  take!  How 
little  we  need! 

June  27th. 

Monday  night,  a  swift  fire  swept  away  a  large  part  of  Marble- 
head.  Father  was  absent,  and  mother,  Anna  and  Agnes  were 
alone  in  the  house,  terrified,  but  collected.  What  preparations 
they  could,  they  made  for  moving.  But  the  house  was  not 
touched.   The  loss  to  the  town  was  $500,000. 

June  28th. 

Your  vivid  description  of  the  fire  brought  everything  plainly 
before  me.  I  could  see  Anna  going  round  from  place  to  place, 
gathering  up  what  seemed  precious,  and  you,  with  every  wit  at 
work  in  the  midst  of  danger,  and  Agnes,  quick  and  determined. 
You  were  all  heroes.    Congratulations  to  you  all!    Thanks  to  God! 

July  3d. 

In  our  excursion  down  the  river,  I  was  vividly  reminded  of  our 
sail  on  the  Loch  Katrine.  But  there  was  no  day  so  fine  as  that 
at  StafTa  and  lona.  I  hear  yet  the  organ  notes  of  the  sea,  singing 
into  Fingal's  Cave,  and  among  the  deep  columns. 

I  had  my  hair  cut,  yesterday,  "dead  rabbit,"  as  they  call  it,  and 
am  greeted  everywhere  by  looks  of  horror  and  amazement  or 
merriment.  It  is  amusing  where  people  feel  that  politeness  re- 
quires them  to  notice  nothing.  Mrs.  Wiltsie  advised  me  to  hide 
myself  in  the  Catskills,  but  Dr.  Cate  said,  "No,  they  would  shoot 
him  for  a  wild  man." 

Edward  early  formed  the  habit  of  getting  his  pulpit  prep- 
arations through  by  Saturday  noon.  Then  he  would  devote 
the  remainder  of  the  day  to  long  walks,  or  some  form  of 
thorough  physical  recreation,  bicycles  not  being  then  in 
vogue.  This  exercise  insured  a  good  sleep  for  Saturday 
night,  so  that  in  the  morning,  refreshed  and  invigorated,  he 
would  enter  on  the  duties  of  the  Sabbath.  This  arrange- 
ment, so  far  as  possible,  he  followed  through  life,  and 
strongly  recommended  to  his  ministerial  friends. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


Study,  Saturday,  July  7th. 
This  morning,  wrote  a  sermon,  spending  much  time  in  brood- 
ing over  it.  In  the  afternoon,  early,  crossed  the  river  in  a  ferry- 
boat. The  two  caissons  are  now  standing  in  the  river,  and  one  has 
a  great  dredge  at  work.  An  immense  tub  descends  into  one  of 
the  compartments,  opens,  claws  itself  full,  swings  up  and  out  into 
the  stream,  and  opens,  like  two  immense  clam  shells,  with  teeth, 
and  the  whole  contents  of  black  mud  splash  into  the  riv- 
er. The  caissons  look  like  islands,  swarming  with  men.  I 
strolled  up  the  river  by  a  wood-path  to  the  road.  Then  along 
through  chestnut  and  oak  groves,  picking  black-caps  and  red 
raspberries.  Went  into  Bellevue  villa,  and  was  shown  to  the  tow- 
er, from  which  there  was  a  superb  view,  the  same  view  that  grows 
more  beautiful  to  me  as  my  life  becomes  a  part  of  it.  The  Hudson 
was  at  my  feet,  calm,  stately,  sweeping  in  prolonged  curves  be- 
tween its  wooded  banks,  on  towards  the  Fishkills,  where  it 
seems  to  stop,  its  way  blocked  up.  Steamers  and  tugs,  drawing 
long  trains  of  barges  and  canal  boats,  slowly  move  up  and  down. 
The  two  furnaces  stand  like  great  smoking  altars  on  its  banks, 
one  at  each  end  of  the  city,  where  we  sacrifice  to  the  iron  god. 
The  city  itself  sleeps,  embowered  and  partly  hidden  among  the 
trees.  Prominent,  as  everywhere,  is  College  Hill,  wholly  Grecian, 
a  temple  on  the  Acropolis.  Farther  north  and  near  the  river  stands 
the  Insane  Asylum — an  immense  spread-out  mass  of  brick,  en- 
circled by  trees.  A  range  of  low  hills  begirts  the  whole,  running 
from  the  high  Fishkills  down  to  lower  ranges. 

Am  reading  Augustine's  Confessions  and  Goethe's  Life,  together. 
Some  striking  resemblances.  Augustine,  however,  had  the  more 
passionate,  intense  nature,  went  deeper  into  dissipation,  and  was 
loftier  in  flight.  Goethe  more  sided,  broader,  more  artistic.  Both 
sensuous.  Both  vivid  imagination,  sense  of  the  Infinite.  Both 
misled  by  affections.  Augustine  grosser,  if  both  paint  themselves 
truly,  yet  in  the  end  purer,  truer,  grander,  not  as  wise 
in  nature,  more  taught  of  God.  Goethe  was  receptive,  came 
much  under  the  influence  of  men  and  things,  and  had  great  as- 
similating force.  But  the  power  of  his  personality  was  very  strong, 
and  while  he  was  influenced  by  almost  every  one,  he  rejected  what 
did  not  belong  to  him,  and  went  his  own  way.  He  was  continual- 
ly being  drawn  into  positions  of  danger  to  himself,  and  sometimes 
to  others.  Often,  others  were  wronged  by  this  willingness  to  let 
everything  act  upon  him.  Yet  he  had  a  strong  will,  which  came 
to  his  rescue,  by  which  he  tore  himself  loose  from  the  danger, 
and  soon  found  help  from  new  objects.  "Wir  wollten  nicht  lernen," 
he  says,  "wir  wollten  nicht."  Goethe's  was  a  thoroughly  Greek 
nature. 

In  anything  which  concerned  the  welfare  of  the  commun- 
ity or  the  country,  although  outside  his  church  work,  Ed- 
ward never  hesitated  to  speak  plainly  or  to  act  openly.  No 
fear  of  being  charged  with  interfering  in  politics  kept  him 


156   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


silent  as  to  corrupt  practices  at  the  polls  by  either  party. 
His  frank  utterances  often  appeared  in  the  Eagle,  whose  ed- 
itor opened  its  columns  for  free  discussion  or  unsparing  re- 
buke. 

Edward  continued  to  labor  earnestly  and  unceasingly  in 
the  temperance  cause,  and  at  one  time,  on  three  successive 
Sunday  evenings,  gave  the  history  of  the  reform  in  this 
country. 

Allusion  has  been  made  to  his  habit  of  taking  wine  and 
beer,  in  Germany.  From  a  report  of  one  of  these  sermons, 
in  a  city  paper,  the  following  is  quoted  : — 

The  Rev.  gentleman  then  made  an  impressive  reference  to  a 
chapter  in  his  own  experience,  when  holding  different  views  from 
those  he  now  advocated.  The  dangers  and  effects  of  moderate 
drinking  exhibited  themselves  in  a  most  startling  and  tragic 
light.  Mr.  Lawrence  continued :  "I  assure  you,  it  was  not  long 
before  I  reached  a  conclusion.  It  was  plain  that  there  was  only 
one  thing  to  be  done.  That  was  to  practise  and  to  urge  abstinence. 
I  found  myself  among  a  people  of  irritable  appetite,  which,  in 
any  one,  might  be  as  easily  kindled  by  the  use  of  an  intoxicant 
as  powder  by  a  spark.  I  did  not  think  it  manly  to  go  about 
through  homes,  which  might  any  of  them  harbor  a  hidden  cask 
of  dynamite,  with  a  lighted  match  in  my  hand,  even  though  I 
knew  I  should  pass  out  myself  before  an  explosion  came.  Right 
about  me  were  homes  devastated  by  just  such  an  explosion.  I 
did  not  find  it  unmanly  to  say,  "Since  I  live  among  powder  maga- 
zines. I  will  not  use  matches."  And  it  seemed  to  me  the  true  use 
of  Christian  manliness,  liberty  and  charity,  to  urge  all  others  to 
accept  the  teaching  of  experience  and  also  abstain.  .  .  It  is 
Christian  charity  to  drink  no  wine,  lest  it  should  make  our  broth- 
er offend.  And  it  is  justice  to  demand  that  the  law  shall  stamj) 
as  illegal  a  traffic  which  public  sentiment  declares  immoral  and  facts 
prove  to  be  disastrous.. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


SUCCESSFUL     WORK     AND    HAPPY     DAYS  WITH 

NATURE. 

Dear  Lord,  we  thank  thee  for  the  joy  of  Hving,  day  by  day, 
That  we  may  see  thy  glorious  works  which  lie  along  our  way — 
The  flowers  blooming  sweet  and  fair,  the  fields  and  meadows  green, 
The  fruitful  hills,  the  mountains  clothed  in  distant  silvery  sheen. 
We  joy  in  living!  may  it  be  that  while  we  live,  we  live  to  thee! 

— Mary  E.  Brine. 

When  Edward  came  to  understand  the  financial  condi- 
tion of  his  church,  he  was  much  troubled.  Besides  the 
encumbrance  of  a  heavy  debt,  it  did  not  meet  its  current 
expenses,,  and  was  therefore  getting  more  and  more  in- 
volved. His  mother  received  a  letter  from  a  friend  in  Chi- 
cago, who  was  connected  with  one  of  Edward's  families, 
telling  her  of  a  great  sacrifice  he  had  made  in  order  to  re- 
lieve the  church.  She  wrote  him,  asking  why  he  had  not 
enlightened  his  parents.  He  replied  that  he  did  not  like 
to  speak  of  such  things,  but  that  since  they  had  heard  of  the 
matter,  he  would  enclose  his  pastoral  letter,  adding : — 

"At  the  Church  and  Society  meetings,  after  speaking  of  the  state 
of  things,  I  said  I  would  take  from  them  only  enough  to  meet  my 
necessities.  I  thought  that  would  not  be  more  than  $i,ooo,  I  hoped 
less.   I  felt  that  it  would  be  the  only  right  thing  to  do." 

He  thus  gave  up  half  his  salary.  But  as  this  sacri- 
fice did  not  relieve  the  present  emergency,  it  was  resolved 
to  have  a  fair,  as  was  the  fashion  in  those  days.  And  as  he 
had  great  confidence  in  the  skilled  women  of  his  parish,  he 
entered  warmly  into  their  plans. 

October  20th  he  writes  : 

Another  idea  about  our  fair  is  to  issue  a  paper,  containing  un- 
published pieces  by  the  best  writers  we  can  lay  hold  of.    I  have 


158    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

thought  of  something  from  Whittier,  Mrs.  Livermore,  Mrs.  JuHa 
Ward  Howe,  and  others.  I  want  also  something  from  the  mem- 
bers of  my  own  family.  You  have  helped  me  already  in  this  mat- 
ter more  than  I  can  tell.  We  shall  have  no  raffling  in  any  form. 
The  preparation  is  bringing  our  people  together,  and  I  think  the 
result  will  be  good.  I  am  not  only  editor-in-chief,  but  the  only 
editor,  and  I  have  even  taken  to  the  street  to  solicit  advertise- 
ments. 

Later  he  wrote  : — 

Tuesday  evening. 
I  want  to  make  up  a  column  of  Chips,  that  is,  small  items,  facts 
of  interest  and  Bubbles — by  which  I  mean  anecdotes,  bright  say- 
ings, or  anything  amusing.  Perhaps  you  can  help  me  about  it. 
Send  any  little  scraps,  such  as  you  often  do  in  your  letters,  or 
any  favorite  of  yours  or  father's  from  his  scrap  book.  I  hope, 
too,  for  his  Lady  Bountiful.  We  may  need  all  we  can  get.  All 
goes  well. 

Ned. 

On  a  visit  to  Dresden,  in  Germany,  Dr.  Jenkins  had 
shown  him  a  remarkable  poem,  which  had  been  rendered 
into  English  verse, — The  Ruhdiydt  of  Omar  Khayyam,  the 
astronomer  poet  of  Persia,  who  lived  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
eleventh  centtiry.  Edward  was  very  desirous  to  secure  a 
copy,  and  after  much  book  hunting,  he  succeeded  in  ob- 
taining one  in  Piccadilly,  London,  published  in  1872. 

The  edition  of  the  paper,  which  was  entitled  The  Fair, 
was  confined  to  two  numbers.  And,  dividing  the  Persian 
poem,  he  put  the  whole  into  these  numbers.  From  his  in- 
troductory remarks,  one  or  two  sentences  are  quoted : — 
"We  give  the  poem  entire,  believing  that  those  to  whom 
Christ  is  the  Answer  will  only  be  helped  by  this  book,  to 
what,  to  Omar,  was  agonizingly  insoluble.  And  yet, 
judged  rightly,  the  antidote  is  contained  in  his  own  verses. 
If  Omar  has  not  found  the  'Everlasting  Yea,'  he,  at  any 
rate,  gropes  eagerly  for  it,  and  believes  that  there  must  be 
some  Infinite  Afifirmative." 

It  mav  be  added  here  that  Mr.  Nathan  Haskell  Dole  of 
Boston,  the  translator  of  Tolstoi,  has  published  a  variorum 
edition  of  the  Rubdiyat.  He  sent  a  copy  of  this  to  the  Shah 
of  Persia,  who  issued  a  firman,  ordering  a  medal  to  be  pre- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  159 


sented  to  Mr.  Dole,  as  a  token  of  his  appreciation  of  the 
gift. 

This  wonderful  poem,  in  addition  to  the  fine  array  of 
prose  and  poetry  which  came  directly  from  the  authors, 
made  The  Fair  a  brilliant  paper  that  secured  a  wide  private 
circulation.  Edward  writes  his  mother: — "I  was  amazed 
at  the  amount  of  money  you  sent  me  for  The  Fair.  That 
was  doing  splendidly,  and  makes  the  sum  total  for  the  paper 
about  $119.00,  while  the  whole  amount  cleared  by  the  fair 
was  $750.00." 

But  it  was  a  great  disappointment  to  his  friends,  that  not- 
withstanding the  surrender  of  half  his  salary,  nothing  of 
what  was  made  could  be  applied  to  the  standing  debt,  as  it 
was  all  absorbed  by  the  current  expenses.  When  it  was 
suggested  that  he  should  try  to  secure  the  services  of  Ed- 
ward Kimball,  the  great  debt-raiser,  he  hesitated,  knowing 
how  heavy  was  the  demand  on  him  by  large  city  churches. 
Finally,  however,  he  consented  to  send  him  a  letter.  Then,- 
without  consulting  any  one,  his  mother  also  wrote  Mr. 
Kimball,  who  responded  most  kindly  that  he  would  make  it 
a  point  to  go  to  Poughkeepsie  as  soon  as  possible. 

In  the  fall,  as  a  result  of  temperance  labors,  in  which  Mr. 
Gobright  and  !Mr.  Sawyer  assisted,  there  was  a  large  num- 
ber of  reformed  drunkards,  seven  of  whom  joined  the  Con- 
gregational church. 

In  November,  Edward  writes: — "I  have  been  preparing 
an  essay  on  Spinoza,  for  our  Literary  Club.  He  was  a  great 
man,  a  saint  in  philosophy,  a  thinker  in  religion.  This  club 
is  a  grand  institution.  It  meets  every  Tuesday  evening, 
and  has  about  a  dozen  working  members,  discussing  all 
topics  in  heaven  and  on  earth.  Prohibition  was  the  last, 
Russia  and  Turkey  the  week  before.  Science  and  religion 
crop  up  often." 

After  his  sister's  return  home,  she  took  a  serious  cold 


l6o   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


and  was  again  prostrated.  Edward  writes : — "You  speak 
of  Florida  or  a  more  southern  climate.  If  this  will  benefit 
her,  I  will  gladly  give  up  my  California  trip,  and  put  at  your 
disposal  what  I  should  spend  in  that.  Nothing  must  fail 
that  can  help  her.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  selfish  to  be  so  well 
and  happy  in  my  work,  while  you  are  enduring  such  trials. 
It  will  make  me  far  happier  to  do  anything  for  her  than  for 
myself.'" 

After  much  inquiry,  it  was  concluded  that  I  should  take 
her  to  Heald's  Hygeian  Home,  Wilmington,  Delaware, 
and  remain  there  with  her. 

One  of  the  homes  where  Edward  and  his  family,  to  use 
his  own  expression,  frequently  took  tea,  or  rather  chocolate, 
and  that  of  the  best,  was  Mrs.  ^Mott's,  a  great  worker  and  a 
faithful  friend.    In  a  letter,  she  says : — 

We  feel  that  the  church,  humanity  and  the  world  have  lost  a 
life  they  could  ill  spare.  ^Ir.  Lawrence's  face  shines  down  on  me 
as  I  write  these  words.  He  was  a  very  dear  friend,  and  I  could 
always  trust  him.  He  was  so  large  in  every  outlook,  so  broad  and 
generous  and  helpful  to  others,  so  kind  and  patient,  although  sensi- 
tive as  a  child.  And  he  went  about  his  Master's  business,  comfort- 
ing the  sorrowing,  helping  to  lift  up  the  fallen,  seeking  the  lost 
in  the  wilderness,  if  need  be,  uplifting  and  strengthening  the  down- 
cast, and  always  forgetful  of  self.  I  never  knew  any  one  who 
filled  every  relation  in  life  so  truly,  so  grandly,  so  beautifully. 

Our  first  Ladies'  Foreign  Missionary  Society  was  organized, 
largely,  I  might  say,  entirely,  through  Mr.  Lawrence's  influence. 
Then  followed  the  Opportunity  Mission  Circle,  to  interest  children. 
Another  factor  for  the  growth  of  the  church  was  the  districting 
of  the  city,  and  the  appointment  of  lady-visitors  for  the  different 
districts. 

Mr.  Lawrence  was  also  particularly  interested  in  the  Literary 
Club,  which  has  grown  into  Vassar  Institute,  and  whose  course  of 
lectures,  representing  native  talent,  easily  rivals  the  lyceum  course 
at  the  Opera  House.  He  was  the  head  and  front  of  the  Charity 
Organization  Society,  and  entered  warmly  into  the  ballot  reform, 
himself  watching  at  the  polls.  He  was  untiring  in  his  efforts  to 
lift  his  people  to  a  higher  plane,  mentally  and  spiritually,  and  he 
was  not  satisfied  to  have  his  efforts  bounded  by  four  walls.  Thus 
his  influence  radiated  through  the  whole  city,  from  length  to 
breadth,  and  from  height  to  depth. 

Poughkeepsie,  Jan.  24th,  1878. 
It  makes  me  heart-sick  to  have   Anna  suffer   so.    I  hope  you 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  l6l 


will  get  away  as  soon  as  possible.  I  am  glad  she  had  such  a 
birthday  visit  from  William  Lloyd  Garrison. 

Feb.  15th,  1878. 

I  suppose  you  had  a  long,  anxious  night  of  it,  reaching  Wil- 
mington this  morning.  I  will  come  any  time  you  wish,  leaving  here 
Monday,  and  returning  Saturday. 

March  ist,  1878. 

What  a  dear  good  father  I  have!  How  full  of  esprit!  He 
sometimes  reminds  me  of  Charles  Dudley  Warner,  delicate,  keen, 
coruscating. 

I  have  just  finished  a  long  sermon  on  Jacob,  and  am  relieved. 
A  pretty  crooked  stick  he  was.  But  he  got  straightened  out  be- 
fore the  stick  was  thrown  away — what  with  sharp,  old  Laban  and 
weak-eyed  Leah  and  his  bad  boys! 

March  nth. 

I  hope  to  be  with  you,  Monday  evening.  I  need  a  week's  rest, 
for  I  have  not  taken  a  day  since  October. 

At  the  appointed  time  he  reached  the  Hygeian  Home, 
bringing  flowers  and  sunshine.  He  made  himself  at  home 
with  the  patients,  and  at  the  request  of  the  doctors,  gave 
them,  one  evening,  an  informal  sermon,  in  which  they  ex- 
pressed a  warm  interest. 

Meantime,  his  mother  had  a  private  communication  from 
Mr.  Kimball,  that  he  had  arranged  to  go  to  Poughkeepsie 
quite  soon. 

Poughkeepsie,  March  i8th,  1878. 
I  found,  on  my  return  from  Wilmington,  a  despatch  from  Mr. 
Kimball,  and  about  midnight  he  came.  The  next  morning  there 
were  consultations  with  others,  in  which  none  were  hopeful  but 
Mr.  Kimball  and  myself,  although  all  were  willing  to  make  the 
experiment.  It  was  a  dismal,  rainy  morning,  and  the  attendance 
was  small,  but  the  work  began,  and  I  hope  by  next  Saturday 
evening  to  announce  our  debt  as  extinguished.  For  this  we  must 
thank  you,  for  you  gave  me  the  impulse.  Mr.  Kimball  is  a  de- 
lightful man,  full  of  the  religious  spirit.  He  spoke  to  the  con- 
gregation of  you  and  father  with  great  kindness. 

I  am  often  witlT  you,  and  follow  you  every  hour  of  the  day;  can 
see  sister  Filey  coming  in  to  call  on  Anna,  Dr.  Mary  looking  after 
her,  and  others  performing  kind  ofifices.  I  regret  to  say  that  my 
friends  in  this  unhygienic  region  do  not  show  a  proper  appreciation 
of  the  graham  rolls  I  brought. 

March  26th,  1878. 

Dear,  Sick  Mother: — 

So  you  have  yielded  at  last!  How  sorry 
I  was  to  learn  it,  and  how  glad  that  you  are  where  you  can  have 
the  best  of  care!  It  was  very  good  of  Dr.  Mary  to  write  me  that 
kind  note.    You  have  been  giving  your  strength  so  long  to  others. 


1 62   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


that  it  is  not  strange  you  should  at  last  come  down  yourself.  I 
am  sorry  that  we,  whom  you  have  so  watched  and  nursed  and 
helped,  can  do  nothing  for  you.  How  many,  many  hours  and 
days  and  years  a  mother  gives  her  children,  before  thej'  even  know 
that  she  is  doing  it ! — God's  love  working  through  these  human 
ties,  linking  generations  together,  with  cords  of  everlasting  kind- 
ness. 

April  2d,  1878. 

Dear,  Sick  Ones,  which  of  you  is  the  better?  I  hope  you  will 
prove  living  witnesses  to  the  power  of  hygienic  treatment.  Here 
I  am  enjoying  my  unsanctified  dishes,  obstinately  remaining  well 
and  hearty.  The  lines  from  Anna  I  shall  treasure  as  sweet 
fragrance  crushed  from  flowers.    God  seems  very  near  to  her. 

April  8th,  1878. 

So  dear  Sister  Filey  is  gone.  I  am  glad  I  knew  her  and  shall 
know  her  again  in  the  other  life.  The  simplicity  of  the  Friends 
is  very  charming,  when  it  does  not  become  too  much  of  a  form. 
Saturday,  I  took  a  long  walk  and  found  some  trailing  arbutus. 

As  the  money  had  all  been  pledged  for  the  church  debt, 
the  way  seemed  clear  for  Edward  to  carry  out  his  long  cher- 
ished desire  of  a  trip  to  California.  And  in  addition  to  his 
vacation,  it  was  arranged  that  his  father  should  take  his 
place  for  a  few  weeks,  both  as  a  preacher  and  pastor,  thus 
ensuring  a  longer  time  for  Edward's  trip. 

April  15th,  1878. 

My  Dear  Father: — 

I  now  expect  to  start  for  California,  May  ist. 
I  hope  you  will  bring  some  of  your  foreign  lectures  for  Sunday 
evenings,  when  it  is  hardest  to  hold  the  audience.  A  delightful 
Easter,  yesterday,  and  good  congregations.  "Easter — God's 
Amen  and  the  Hallelujahs  of  Humanity,"  as  a  German  preacher 
said. 

When  Edward  spoke  of  his  plans  at  a  church  meeting, 
there  was  something  in  the  atmosphere  which  led  him  to 
surmise  that  doubts  were  felt  as  to  the  wisdom  of  his  leav- 
ing at  that  time.  Knowing  that  there  would  be  greater 
freedom  in  the  expression  of  such  doubts,  if  he  were  not 
present,  he  arranged  to  be  out  of  town  at  the  next  meeting. 

April  27th,  1878. 

Dear  Father: — 

You  will  have  time  to  cultivate  your  garden  and  reap 
its  fruit,  for  I  am  not  going  to  California.  Before  I  left  for  New 
York,  on  Monday,  I  put  the  matter  into  the  hands  of  a  judicious 
friend,  authorizing  him.  when  it  came  up  on  Thursday  evening. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


to  act  for  me,  and  if  there  seemed  to  be  a  feeling  that 
my  going  would,  on  the  whole,  be  an  injury  to  the 
church,  simply  to  withdraw  my  request.  What  I  had 
surmised  as  possible  took  place.  He  found  there  was  just 
that  feeling,  although  every  desire  to  have  my  wish  granted  was 
expressed,  and  also  the  best  of  feelings  towards  you.  Accordingly, 
my  friend,  though  personally  believing  that  the  church  would  gain 
by  my  going,  withdrew  my  request,  and  I  shall  work  on  as  well 
and  as  wisely  as  I  can.  I  should  urge  your  making  me  a  visit, 
but  that  I  hope  in  November  we  may  all  take  a  house  together  for 
the  winter. 

To  his  mother,  who  had  entered  warmly  into  his  plans 
and  secured  letters  of  introduction  for  his  journey,  he  wrote 
that  he  had  been  doing  what  would  suit  her  next  best  to  the 
trip : — "I  have  had  a  grand  house-cleaning  in  my  study. 
With  the  sexton's  help,  I  took  all  the  pictures  down,  and  all 
the  books  out,  dusting  them  carefully.  Then  the  carpet 
was  taken  up  and  the  floor  washed,  and  everything  put 
back." 

Dear  Mother: — 

It  seemed  strange  to  be  steaming  up  to  my  Prince- 
ton home.  I  went  first  of  all  to  my  old  room  in  Brown  Hall,  and 
stepped  inside.  A  Junior  was  packing  his  things,  as  I  had  done 
about  nine  years  before.  How  strange  to  be  in  those  halls,  without 
any  of  the  old  companions, — McGregor,  Lockwood,  Burr,  Alf 
Myers,  Vollmer!  I  had  a  good  visit,  saying  my  say  about  .Ger- 
man Universities,  and  passing  the  night  at  Prof.  Aiken's.  I 
learned  from  the  speech  of  a  good  Doctor  of  Divinity,  aged  eighty- 
two,  that  there  is  no  stopping  place  between  Calvinism  and  Athe- 
ism. There  is  nothing  like  having  positive  convictions.  I  feel 
sorry  for  our  poor  Methodist  friends,  but  I  suppose  we  shall  have 
to  give  them  up !  .  .  .  In  the  evening,  there  was  a  kettle-drum 
at  Prof.  Cameron's  where  I  met  Pres.  McCosh,  and  Prof.  Guyot, 
with  others.  I  was  particularly  sorry  not  to  see  Prof.  Green,  who 
was  sick. 

In  New  York,  I  attended  the  public  rehearsal  of  Elijah.  Madame 
Rappenheim  was  the  soprano,  and  sang  with  fine  voice  and  effect. 
Adelaide  Phillips  gave  the  contralto  with  wonderful  feeling  and 
power.  The  orchestra  was  not  perfect,  but  it  was  a  delightful 
concert. 

I  drop  all  the  extras  I  can,  and  have  brought  my  German  class 
to  a  close,  after  nearly  two  years. 

On  going  to  my  room,  I  found  The  Complete  Goethe  Gallery 
of  Photographs,  by  Kaulbach,  in  large  size,  and  the  Schiller 
Gallery,  in  small  size,  which  were  given  by  my  class  of  twenty-four. 
It  was  a  beautiful  thing,  beautifully  done. 


164   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Your  letter  has  just  come.  What  good  news!  You,  going  to 
church!  Anna  being  wheeled  to  the  woods  on  the  Brandywine I 
What  times  you  will  have  in  visiting  unhygienic  people!  I  don't 
see  but  you  must  build  an  island  where  you  can  live  on  strict 
principles,  hang  your  head  and  eschew  salt.  I  inhale  quite  regular- 
ly now.  In  fact,  I  like  it  so  well  that  I  do  it  all  the  time.  Does 
Anna  mean  to  journey  north  in  her  wheelbarrow?  The  Tripod 
(named  the  Clover  Leaf)  may  do  them  all  good. 

Since  Anita,  as  Anna  was  often  called,  was  tinable  to 
walk,  on  pleasant  days  one  of  the  helpers  used  to  take  her 
on  a  wheelbarrow  to  the  Brandywine.  They  were  accom- 
panied by  a  friend,  a  niece  of  Dr.  Heald's.  On  those  classic 
banks  they  spent  many  pleasant  hours,  resting  and  chatting, 
reading  poetry  and  dreaming.  Anita's  mother,  having 
read  Edward  Everett  Hale's  most  suggestive  book,  Ten 
Times  One  is  Ten,  proposed  that  they  should  form  a  club 
for  mutual  benefit  and  for  helpfulness  to  others.  They  fixed 
on  the  name,  Clover  Leaf,  each  of  the  trio  securing  a  four- 
leaved  clover  as  a  badge.  Edward  entered  warmly  into  the 
matter,  and  sent  to  the  Clover  Leaf  the  following  letter: — 

Poughkeepsie,  1878. 
I  am  called  to  join  the  seance  of  Clover  Leaves.  A  four-leaved 
clover  is  sometimes  found,  so  this  time,  the  stalk  shall  divide  four- 
fold, and  I  will  be  the  one  to  convert  the  body  into  a  quadruped. 
"Ten  times  one  is  ten,"  but  some  suspect  that  in  celestial  mathe- 
matics, 2  plus  2  may  make  five.  However  that  may  be,  I  know 
that  a  body  composed  of  three  is  stronger,  wiser,  better,  than  three 
units,  isolated,  unhelpful  and  unhelping.  Self-help  is  much; 
mutual  help  is  more.  The  law  of  the  trio  seems  to  be  Truth  and 
Kindness.  A  good  book  we  often  read  puts  "Mercy  and  Truth" 
constantly  together,  as  if  one  could  not  subsist  without  the  other. 
What  God  has  thus  put  together,  let  no  man  put  asunder,  or 
woman  either. 

I  am  glad  in  this  way  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  triad.  I 
am  somewhat  prejudiced  in  favor  of  one  of  the  number,  and  that 
makes  me  much  disposed  to  expect  very  good  things  from  her  co- 
Cloverites.  On  this  triplet,  why  should  there  not  grow  the  beauti- 
ful, rich  blossom  of  that  plant,  only  combining  the  two  colors, 
white  for  sincerity,  red  for  kindness,  full  of  fragrance  for  all,  and 
of  honey  for  roving,  hungry,  busy  bees,  like  myself,  who  are  glad 
to  gather  some  of  the  goodness  which  grows  on  clover  leaves. 

A  warm  greeting  and  best  wishes  from  a  bee  who  wants  honey, 
and  does  not  mean  to  sting. 

Edward  A.  Lawrence,  Jr. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  165 

May  13th,  1878. 

Two  years  in  succession,  a  small  party  of  us  have  taken  a  spring 
walk  to  the  woods.  This  year  seven  ladies  and  six  gentlemen 
crossed  the  river  and  spent  the  day  in  the  woods,  where  we  had 
our  lunch,  coming  home  at  six  with  flowers  for  the  church. 

On  your  way  home  from  Wilmington,  I  want  you  to  come  here 
and  stay  as  long  as  you  can.    I  have  engaged  a  room  for  you. 

May  18th,  1878. 

This  will  come  to  you,  dear  Father,  on  May  20th,  the  day  I  could 
not  be  present  at  your  marriage,  but  I  am  glad  you  were.  That  dear 
silver  wedding  at  Dingle  Side  is  ever  fresh  in  mind,  when  we  were 
happiest  as  a  whole  family.  But  we  shall  be  happier  when  we  meet 
again  in  the  heavenly  home.  You  are  alone,  to-day,  but  will  think 
lovingly  of  your  wife  and  children,  who  in  thought  are  beside  you. 
About  eleven  years  from  now,  I  hope  you  may  have  a  golden 
wedding. 

May  29th,  1878. 

Dear  Mother: — 

You  are  safely  ensconced  at  Dr.  Boardman's,  in 
Walnut  Street,  on  your  way  home.  And  Wilmington,  with  its 
dishes  and  its  doctors,  its  eccentric  people,  its  Mrs.  Wintergreen 
and  Dinah  and  Lucy  and  Mr.  Hoyt  and  Mrs.  Parsons — is  left 
behind. 

Edward  met  the  wanderers  in  New  York,  with  a  centen- 
nial chair,  on  which  his  sister  was  taken  to  the  "Mary  Pow- 
ell," and  after  a  dehghtful  sail  up  the  Hudson,  to  the  board- 
ing place  he  had  arranged  for  them.  But  they  were  allowed 
to  stay  there  only  a  single  night,  for  hospitable  friends  kept 
them  visiting,  kindly  learning  to  make  hygienic  water- 
gems  for  the  patient. 

On  June  loth,  1878,  Edward  wrote  his  father: — "Mother 
and  I  had  a  fine  walk  in  the  rain,  on  Saturday.  She  is  as 
valiant  as  of  yore,  and  tramped  with  me  between  eight  and 
nine  miles  over  the  mountain  road  from  West  Point  to 
Cornwall,  to  the  home  of  Lyman  Abbott." 

Edward  also  described  to  his  father  his  sister's  jubilee. 
As  she  had  not  been  to  church  for  two  or  three  years,  on 
Floral  Sunday  her  brother  made  a  plan  for  her  attendance. 
He  had  a  lounge  from  his  study  brought  over  into  the  gal- 
lery, and  took  her  to  church  quite  early  in  Mr.  Wiltsie's 
carriage.  Then  he  carried  her  in  his  arms  up-stairs,  and 
placed  her  on  the  lounge,  so  arranged  that  she  could  see  all 


1 66   REMINISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


that  passed  below.  After  the  service,  which  she  greatly  en- 
joyed, she  held  quite  a  reception,  many  of  her  friends  going 
up  into  the  gallery  to  speak  with  her. 

Linden  Home,  June  12th,  1878. 

To  My  Dear  Son: — 

To  your  exclamation,  "what  larks!" — if  you 
mean  according  to  the  dictionary,  "a  bird  of  the  genus  Alanda,  dis- 
tinguished for  its  singing,"  I  can  say.  we  have  a  bird  distin- 
guished for  singing,  as  his  shrill  voice  rang  so  through  the  house 
this  morning,  a  little  after  four,  that  it  would  not  let  me  sleep.  But 
I  don't  think  he  is  of  the  lark  genus. 

You  can't  mean  "a  piece  of  merriment,"  for  Webster's  Un- 
abridged pronounces  that  "vulgar." 

As  to  the  weather,  I  will  attend  to  that,  so  that  it  will  be  all 
right,  and  I  have  one  of  the  "steeds," — a  horse  in  the  barn,  and  the 
bridle — I  mean  the  saw  hanging  up  beside  him — both  ready  for  use. 

Now  as  to  the  little  mother, — one  more  such  turn  would,  I  think, 
enable  her  to  walk  eighteen  miles,  and  two  more,  thirty-six,  if  she 
had  you,  Ned,  to  walk  with  her.  It  is  not  strange  that  she  some- 
times forgets.  Old  people  often  lose  the  run  of  time.  Even  I  am 
beginning  to,  young  as  I  am.  I  lost  a  whole  day,  a  week  or  two 
ago,  but  I  found  it  again,  and  there  was  no  serious  damage  done. 
Nor  was  there  in  your  case.  We  both  got  all  the  time  there  was, 
and,  I  hope,  used  it  well. 

Thanks  to  our  dear  invalid  for  her  few  words.  I  have  read 
somewhere  of  a  certain  sick  person,  who  was  carried  to  church, 
and  when  the  crowd  was  so  great  that  they  could  not  enter  at  the 
door,  "they  uncovered  the  roof,"  where  the  preacher  was,  and  "let 
down  the  bed  on  which  the  sick  lay."  It  does  not  say  that  the 
lounge,  as  in  Anna's  case,  was  in  the  gallery, — perhaps  it  was,  if 
there  was  any  gallery.  But  it  is  stated  that  he  went  away  much  bet- 
ter than  when  he  came.  And  I  have  no  doubt  that  Anna  did, — 
"It  was  a  delight  to  her  and  all  of  us;"  and  it  is  to  me  to  hear  of  it. 

I  have  executed  your  order  about  the  pamphlet.  You  can  draw 
on  me  for  any  amount  of  Peace  Principles,  as  you  know  my  store 
of  them  is  inexhaustible.  And  it  is  very  convenient.  It  keeps  me 
from  quarreling  with  my  neighbors,  and  with  my  family. 

Now  I  shall  look  for  you,  Ned,  next  week,  and  if  we  cannot  go 
a-larking,  we  will  go  a-fishing,  which  is  much  more  apostolic. 

You  know  who. 

When  the  round  of  visits  at  Poughkeepsie  was  com- 
pleted, the  mother  and  sister  went  to  West  Hartford,  to 
spend  some  time  with  dear  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Roger 
Frances,  on  a  farm,  while  Edward  proceeded  to  Marble- 
head  to  pass  his  vacation  with  his  father. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  i6'J 

Linden  Home,  June  2Sth,  1878. 

If  we  did  not  fish,  we  boated  and  talked.  Best  of  all  was  our 
visit  to  Whittier.  I  never  realized  before  what  a  typical  Yankee 
he  is!  We  chatted  pleasantly  for  an  hour,  speaking  of  Christian 
Unity,  of  Indian  religions  and  writings,  and  of  prayer.  He  told 
us  of  the  woman  who  prayed  at  an  open  window,  whose  neighbors, 
passing,  used  to  hear  her  requests  and  then  answered  them;  and 
also  of  the  Presbyterian  woman,  who,  desiring  rain,  called  on  a 
Methodist  minister, — as  there  was  no  Presbyterian  near, — to  pray 
for  rain,  which  he  did.  The  next  day  there  came  a  torrent  which 
destroyed  the  woman's  crops.  "Oh,"  she  cried,  "why  did  I  ask  a 
Methodist?   That's  the  way  with  them — they  always  overdo  it." 

Friday  morning,  I  went  to  Cambridge,  to  be  present  at  Irving 
Elting's  graduation.  At  eleven,  we  went  to  Sanders  Theatre, 
where  was  an  audience  "dressed  to  kill,"  and  in  some  cases,  killed 
to  dress.  There  were  good,  plain  orations,  and  at  half-past  twelve 
we  adjourned  to  the  spread,  a  Harvard  custom,  from  the  lack  of 
hotels.  The  difTerent  societies  engage  from  twelve  to  twenty  of 
the  best  rooms  in  a  building.  Then  all  the  delicacies  of  the  caterers 
are  spread  out,  and  the  rooms  are  filled  with  fair  but  hungry 
creatures.  What  tete-a-tetes  in  small  rooms!  What  companies  in 
large  ones! 

I  had  promised  to  be  at  Pcabody's  by  seven,  when  we  took  tea. 
He  is  the  same  noble  fellow.  We  had  good  talks,  that  night,  and  the 
next  morning  I  left  for  Hartford,  and  at  two  o'clock  was  at  the 
Willeys,  in  South  Windsor.  It  was  a  delightful  visit.  I  went  all 
over  the  neighborhood,  called  at  Deacon  Grant's,  on  Charley  Clapp, 
married,  with  two  children,  on  Deacon  Ellsworth,  eighty-nine, 
genial  but  failing,  at  Dingle  Side,  sadly  run  down,  and  on  Bowen 
Clapp,  the  same  as  ever.  Mrs.  Clapp  would  get  me  up  a  grand 
lunch.  Then  at  the  Sperrys's  and  Mr.  Roe's.  Of  course,  I  called  on 
the  Rockwells,  and  found  the  doctor  as  smart  as  ever.  The  Wat- 
sons were  all  well,  and  Minnie  has  done  some  fine  sketching. 
Wednesday  morning,  Lucinda  drove  me  down  to  East  Hartford, 
and  at  half-past  nine,  I  was  in  New  Haven.  Alumni  meeting 
came  in  the  morning,  and  at  twelve,  twenty-six  of  the  class  0/ 
sixty-eight  met  and  arranged  for  class  supper.  I  paid  my  money, 
but  as  they  were  to  have  wine,  and  I  did  not  care  to  meet  them  on 
such  terms  of  conviviality,  I  was  not  present. 

Raquette  Lake,  Aug.  22nd,  1878. 
Off  at  8.15.  Down  through  the  Saranac,  then  over  a  carry.  A 
carry  is  a  place  where  the  boat  is  carried  by  team,  or  on  the  guide's 
shoulders,  over  a  piece  of  land  which  separates  two  lakes.  The 
boats  only  weigh  between  eighty  and  ninety  pounds,  and  by  slip- 
ping them  over  and  resting  them  on  a  yoke,  the  guide  can  carry 
them  several  miles.  The  boats  are  long  and  narrow,  painted  blue 
on  the  bottom.  When  the  guide  carries  it,  you  see  only  his  legs, 
and  as  it  moves  along,  with  its  smooth  bottom  upward,  and  a 
sharp  beak  and  tail,  it  looks  like  some  extinct  animal  of  the 
Saurian  species. 


1 68    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Three  years  ago,  we  went  down  the  Raquette  river  to  Tupper 
Lake  and  found  it  most  weird  and  mysterious,  almost  ghost-like, 
lined  as  it  was  by  dying  forests  which  were  gray  with  moss,  and 
white  with  death. 

At  eight  A.  M.  of?  through  the  lake  and  lily  pads.  What  delicate 
creatures  deer  must  be,  since  they  feed  on  lily  pads!  Still  up  Ra- 
quette river,  past  Buttermilk  Falls,  over  four  carries,  nearly  two 
miles  through  Forked  Lake,  at  last  into  Raquette  Lake, — beautiful 
lake,  with  winding  shores  weaving  in  and  out,  lying  low,  running 
up  and  rolling  ofif  into  hills  and  mountains  of  every  shape.  Islands 
of  various  forms  float  bewilderingly  about,  points  jut  into  deep 
bays  and  recesses.  Camps  of  all  sorts  are  scattered  along  the  shore, 
and  as  you  pass,  old-blue-flannel-shirted,  unkempt,  bare-headed 
and  bronzed  men  rush  out  to  greet  you. 

Forge  House,  Moose  River,  Aug.  22nd,  1878. 

Our  camp  is  close  to  the  wilderness  of  the  woods,  among  the  im- 
mense pines  that  seem  dwarfed  by  the  stars  which  shine  through. 
It  is  built  up  about  three  feet  with  logs,  then  finished  in  birch  bark, 
the  logs  making  a  mantel-piece  all  around.  The  camp  is  laid  with 
sweet  hemlock  boughs ;  we  spread  on  them  a  rubber  blanket  and 
shawl,  put  our  coats  and  knapsacks  for  pillows,  say  a  word  of  pray- 
'rs  together,  and  are  ready  for  sleep.  Meantime  our  camp  fire 
has  been  lighted  and  is  adding  its  blaze  to  that  of  several  others 
which  are  crackling  and  sparkling  and  flaming  through  the  grove. 
We  toast  our  feet,  then  crawl  between  the  blankets,  not  turning 
the  gas  out,  but  letting  the  light  flicker. 

Oh,  these  nights  of  camping  in  the  clear  air,  with  the  fire  to  tell 
you  its  stories,  the  logs  seeming  to  laugh  and  splutter,  talking 
about  what  they  saw  all  those  years, — up  high  and  down  low!  It  is 
better  than  tenting,  better  than  spring  beds.  Plenty  of  blankets 
and  plenty  of  wood — that  is  all. 

About  seven,  Hathorne  appears.  "Your  breakfast  will  be  ready 
soon,  gentlemen."  Up!  fold  the  blankets  and  down  to  the  beach, 
where  we  ablute  in  the  one  mountain  wash-basin.  Breakfast  in  the 
log  house, — coffee,  pancakes,  meat,  fish,  heavy  bread  and  cake. 

Blue  Mountain  Lake,  Aug.  29th,  1878. 
It  was  sweet  to  come  out  of  the  woods,  which  are  so  silent,  with- 
out the  hum  of  insect,  or  the  note  of  birds,  a  silence  interrupted 
by  the  growl  of  some  bear  or  the  tread  of  deer,  or  by  the  awful 
crash  of  some  mighty  falling  tree  which  echoes  over  lakes  and 
hills, — from  such  a  silence,  it  was  delightful  to  pass  into  a  spot 
alive  with  the  whir  of  crickets  and  the  buzz  of  grasshoppers.  It 
was  like  going  at  a  step  from  one  world  into  another.  And  here 
was  the  long  green  grass  that  does  not  grow  in  the  woods,  and  the 
raspberries  that  spring  up  over  burnt  and  cleared  tracts,  and  black- 
berries and  even  strawberries.  How  natural,  how  homelike,  it 
seemed  there  in  the  grass  !  But  the  great  thing  is  the  view.  My 
eyes  never  feasted  on  a  more  beautiful  sight, — islands  of  all  sizes 
and  shapes,  floating  over  the  lakes,  wooded  to  the  water's  edge,  with 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


169 


here  and  there  a  bold  rock,  perhaps  crowned  by  a  single  tree, 
clinging  to  the  rock,  the  low-lying  shore  sweeping  around  in 
graceful  curves  and  piercing  the  lake  with  sharp  points,  the  hills 
rising  ridge  beyond  ridge  and  rolling  away  into  big  mountains  in 
the  distance,  the  sky  clear  blue,  the  water  black  or  blue  of  a  glitter- 
ing sheen.  We  stood  on  the  summit,  and  to  the  right  the  lake 
stretched  away  four  or  five  miles,  point  beyond  point,  and  hill  be- 
yond hill.  A  long  low  island  measured  the  middle  ground  of  the 
picture.  In  front  was  the  plain  broad  surface  of  the  lake.  And  to 
the  left  was  a  long  view,  as  over  a  river  through  a  vista  of  islands 
framed  in  by  gigantic  pines,  far,  far  away  to  the  mountains  again. 
Oh,  I  am  only  writing  signs.  I  can  read  them,  you  cannot.  But 
to  have  lived  to  see  that  sight  seemed  enough.  The  views  are 
fixed  in  my  soul.  I  could  only  say,  "God  is  good."  When  dark  or 
troubled  days  come,  and  the  inner  prospect  is  beclouded,  let  me  re- 
call that  sight  and  there  will  be  comfort  and  help.  Then,  to  re- 
member that  God  is  more  beautiful  than  any  of  his  gifts. 

Back  to  the  spring  again!  The  wind  was  blowing  hard,  so  we 
shot  up  the  bay.  As  we  went  on,  we  found  the  water  driven 
violently  through  a  narrow  inlet,  only  about  six  feet  wide.  We  had 
the  boat  borne  there,  and  in  a  moment,  while  the  winds  still 
whistled  and  the  waves  rolled  higher,  we  rode  on  a  mirror-like 
lake,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long,  hidden  between  the  mountains. 
What  a  harbor!  What  a  contrast  to  the  storm  so  near  us!  So  have 
I  known  sudden  rest  to  come  to  those  who  gave  up  their  own  will 
and  were  driven  by  the  storm  into  a  quiet  haven. 

Blue  Mountain  Lake,  Ordway's  Hotel,  Aug.  30th,  1878. 
This  lake  comes  next  to  Raquette.  It  is  much  smaller,  but  lies 
right  among  the  mountains.  High  above  it  towers 
Blue  Mountain,  and  there  are  many  islands  and  a  few 
pleasant  villas.  Ordway's  is  a  forest  hotel  on  the  west  side  of  the 
lake,  where  people  dress  for  the  woods  and  have  a  good  time.  I 
wear  my  flannel  shirt,  without  collar  or  neck-tie,  and  boots  innocent 
of  blacking.  It  is  just  on  the  edge  of  wood  and  city,  where  the 
lines  waver  and  first  one  and  then  the  other  predominates. 

To-day  was  a  red  letter  day.  I  would  rather  climb  a  mountain 
than  hunt  a  deer.  The  strife  is  keener,  the  conquest  nobler,  the 
reward  richer,  the  benefit  more  enduring.  Yet  since  mv  fall  I 
have  not  dared  to  try  the  feat,  and  three  weeks  ago,  I  should  not 
have  felt  equal  to  it. 

Blue  Mountain  is  4,000  feet  high;  the  lake  is  1,800,  leaving  only 
2,200  to  clirnb.  At  nine,  we  started,  rowed  around  the  lake,  climbed 
to  Merwins's,  a  log  hotel  on  a  high  plateau,  and  then  plunged  into 
the  woods.  It  rained  hard,  yesterday,  so  that  our  going  up  was 
like  climbing  a  running  brook.  The  trail  wound  about  like  an  eel, 
and  wood-roads  ran  off  in  all  directions.  At  last  we  lost  the  trail 
altogether,  then  pushed  straight  up-hill,  through  a  dense  forest, 
till  we  reached  the  top.  Raquette  lay  before  us,  beautiful  in  her 
majesty  We  ate  our  lunch,  wrote  a  few  lines,  and  sunned  our- 
selves three  hours,  4,000  feet  above  the  sea. 


170   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Ordway's,  Sept.  12th. 
Yesterday  morning,  at  two  o'clock,  we  took  the  stage  for  North 
Creek,  thirty  miles  distant.  The  road  kept  up  its  reputation  of  be- 
ing the  worst  in  the  wilderness.  We  were  hurled  down  into  mud 
holes  and  tossed  over  rocks  and  roots,  and  rolled  from  one  side  to 
the  other,  and  shaken  up  as  if  we  were  drops  in  a  bottle  to  be 
taken.    It  was  enough  to  cure  paralysis. 


CHAPTER  XV. 
HOUSEKEEPING  IN  POUGHKEEPSIE. 

My  crown  is  in  my  heart,  not  on  my  head; 
Not  decked  with  diamonds  and  Indian  stones, 
Nor  to  be  seen:  my  crown  is  called  Content; 
A  crown  it  is  that  seldom  kings  enjoy. 

— Shakespeare. 

Soon  after  his  return  to  Poughkeepsie,  Edward  wrote : — 
"I  have  made  an  experiment  of  preaching  a  five  minutes' 
sermon  to  children.  If  it  accomplishes  its  purpose,  I  may 
often  repeat  it,  giving  the  pith  of  the  sermon  in  a  form  in 
which  the  youngest  can  remember  it.'' 

Sept.  26th,  1878. 

I  have  found  a  house  on  Liberty  Street  (later  renamed  Garfield 
Place)  with  extensive  grounds  and  a  fine  view  including  the  river. 
I  can  have  it  from  November  till  May,  just  as  it  is,  furniture, 
crockery,  bedding,  everything.  Now  please  make  all  your  arrange- 
ments accordingly,  for  I  want  you  all  with  me  for  one  winter,  at 
any  rate.  I  shall  not  allow  Poughkeepsie  cares  to  add  to  mother's 
burdens.  .  .  I  still  preach  my  five  minutes'  sermons  to  children. 
Will  you  help  me  by  giving  incidents  that  I  can  work  in? 

These  sermons  proved  such  a  success  that  they  were 
continued  through  his  Poughkeepsie  pastorate.  At  one 
time,  he  gave  a  course  of  seven,  on  "Sweet  Peas,''  viz: 
Patience,  Perseverance,  Punctuality,  Politeness,  Pluck, 
Patriotism  and  Principle.  They  were,  however,  practical, 
not  sensational  sermons. 

Oct.  2nd,  1878. 

I  enclose  a  little  money,  and  insist  that  it  be  used  to  add  to  your 
comforts.  I  shall  lay  in  the  coal  soon,  also  potatoes,  six  or  seven 
bushels? — and  butter — how  much? 

Early  in  November,  the  father,  mother  and  sister,  with 
the  faithful  Scotch  Agnes,  who  had  been  in  the  family  many 
years,  all  went  to  Poughkeepsie,  where  they  were  warmly 


172    REMIXISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


received  by  Mrs.  Abel.  Edward  greatly  enjoyed  making 
the  arrangements  and  providing  for  his  "family,"  the  only 
trouble  being  that  his  supplies  were  too  abundant.  It  need 
not  be  said  that  his  family  had  their  share  of  enjoyment. 

In  accordance  with  an  engagement  to  give  his  foreign 
lectures  at  Clifton  Springs,  Edward's  father,  with  his  moth- 
er, went  on  at  the  appointed  time,  although  a  storm  had  set 
in.    Edw'ard  writes  : — 

Poughkeepsie,  Jan.  nth,  1879. 
We  are  wondering,  dear  ones,   whether  you  are  buried  in  the 
snows  of  midwinter,  or  wrapped  in  the  pack  of  the  Sanitarium.  We 
are  neither  frozen  up,  nor  boiled  down,  only  shovelled  out. 

Jan.  13th,  1879. 

I  see  that  treatment  is  the  order  of  the  day.  Can  they  pack 
infirmities  out  of  the  conscience? 

Jan.  20th. 

Yesterday,  as  there  was  no  soprano  in  the  choir,  Anna  stepped 
in,  quite  without  preparation,  and  did  very  nicely.  .  .  I  find  I 
am  growing  more  and  more  dependent  on  my  home-life,  and  hope 
it  can  be  continued  another  winter. 

Edward  was  unwilling  to  take  funeral  fees,  because,  with 
all  the  other  expenses,  it  would  bear  so  heavily  on  the  poor. 
In  a  case  where  he  had  had  long  and  very  painful  responsi- 
bilities, and  a  fee  of  a  hundred  dollars  was  offered  him,  he 
declined  it.  The  friend  then  desired  Mrs.  Wiltsie,  whose 
house  was  at  that  time  his  home,  to  ascertain,  incidentally, 
what  he  w^ould  like.  As  she  made  no  headway  in  this  at- 
tempt, when  his  parents  and  sister  came  to  live  with  him, 
she  solicited  the  help  of  his  mother,  who  told  her  that  it 
would  be  a  very  difficult  matter,  for  if  he  suspected  the  pur- 
pose, they  would  get  nothing  from  him.  But,  one  morning, 
when  his  sister  related  a  dream,  in  which  something  very 
choice  had  been  presented  to  her,  which  she  said  was  exact- 
ly what  she  wanted,  his  mother,  seizing  the  opportunity, 
named  something  she  herself  would  like,  and  then  turning 
to  Edward :  "And  you  ?  Would  you  not  choose  a  fine 
French  clock?"  "No,"  he  replied,  emphatically.    "I  would 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  173 


have  a  copy  of  the  Sistine  Madonna."  It  was  not  long  be- 
for  such  a  copy  was  procured  and  framed  and  hung  up  in 
his  study, — a  perpetual  joy  to  him.  If  he  was  late  at  a 
meal,  which  was  very  seldom,  as  punctuality  was  one  of  his 
virtues,  his  mother  would  say  : — "Ah,  but  you  have  been 
lying  on  your  couch,  gazing  at  your  elect  lady." 

After  the  pledges  were  all  redeemed,  and  the  church  was 
freed  from  debt,  what  might  be  called  a  jubilee  was  held,  in 
which  Edward  briefly  told  the  story  with  warm,  filial  words, 
very  precious  to  his  mother,  but  which  made  her  cheeks 
burn. 

When  he  had  come  down  from  the  pulpit,  by  urgent  re- 
quest, she  then  and  there  made  her  first  public  speech  on 
presenting  her  son,  in  behalf  of  the  ladies,  with  the  works  of 
Ralph  Waldo  Emerson.  Following  the  example  of  our  il- 
lustrious President  Garfield  at  his  Inauguration,  as  Ed- 
ward's reply  to  her  address,  he  simply  kissed  his  mother. 

One  of  his  flock,  Mrs.  McGraw,  appreciating  most 
warmly  his  financial  sacrifices  for  the  church,  went  around 
among  the  people  and  collected  as  a  Christmas  present  a 
hundred  dollars  for  him  to  appropriate  as  he  desired.  Wish- 
ing the  poor  to  feel  free  to  contribute  the  smallest  sum,  she 
made  a  list  of  the  donors,  but  not  of  the  amount  given.  It 
was  all  done  in  a  way  most  gratifying  to  him  and  to  them, 
and  with  some  addition  to  the  sum  he  purchased  a  cabinet 
organ,  which  through  his  life  brought  him  great  enjoyment. 

In  May,  after  our  return  to  Marblehead,  he  writes : — 

"I  am  unable  to  express  how  much  help  and  comfort  you 
have  been  to  me  through  the  winter." 

Edward  felt  strongly  the  evils  of  indiscriminate  charity. 
He  had  long  been  considering  the  best  way  of  aiding  the 
poor,  and  after  much  inquiry,  laid  the  matter  before  some 
of  the  citizens. 

May  loth,  1879. 

We  had  a  meeting  of  about  twenty,  Wednesday  evening,  with  a 
full  and  free  expression  of  opinion.      There  was  divergency  of 


174    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


view,  but  hearty  sympathy  as  to  the  general  idea  I  proposed.  A 
committee  of  nine  was  appointed.  We  met  again,  Friday  evening, 
and  after  a  careful  consultation  came  to  an  agreement  on  definite 
points. 

May  26th,  1879. 

At  the  next  meeting,  I  read  the  Constitution  I  had  drawn  up. 
About  thirty  or  forty  of  the  best  people  were  there.  At  first,  they 
questioned,  doubted,  almost  opposed.  Then,  by  degrees,  all 
swung  round  and  adopted  the  constitution,  with  only  one  or  two 
alterations. 

Edward's  relations  with  his  brother  ministers  of  the  city 
were  very  pleasant.  Writes  one  of  them,  Dr.  Elmendorf, 
of  the  Second  Reformed  church: — 

Mr.  Lawrence  was  fairly  entering  ripe  young  manhood  when  I 
made  his  acquaintance,  and  he  became  my  near  neighbor  in  the 
ministry.  His  life  lay  open  to  my  close  inspection  for  several  years. 
I  saw  its  beauty,!  tasted  its  sweetness,  I  prized  its  companionship,  I 
blessed  God  for  its  usefulness  and  its  bright  promise  of  growing 
eminence  and  influence  and  achievements.  It  will  ever  be  to  me  a 
precious  memory. 

His  mental,  like  his  bodily,  powers  were  strong,  active,  masterful. 
He  was  an  earnest,  influential  and  valued  member  of  the  reading 
clubs  and  literary  associations  of  our  city,  and  was  warmly  inter- 
ested in,  and  ready  to  labor  for,  the  schools  of  every  grade.  His 
social  and  moral  qualities  were  manifestly  so  genuine  and  superior 
that,  while  his  counsel  and  co-operation  were  greatly  helpful,  his 
presence  was  a  joy.  None  who  were  associated  with  him,  can  ever 
:orget  his  gentle  voice,  winning  look,  honest,  conciliatory  and 
afifectionate  spirit,  which  held  firmly,  without  obtruding  his  own 
convictions,  and  illustrated  how  brethren  may  agree  to  differ  with- 
out weakening  or  chilling  the  strongest  and  warmest  fraternal 
bonds. 

The  truths  of  God's  ^^'ord  were  realities  in  his  own  life,  and  it 
was  abiding  consciousness  of  these  which  gave  him  such  facility 
and  power  in  the  pulpit,  and  in  pastoral  ministrations.  The  faith 
he  enjoined  upon  others  he  exercised  himself.  The  hope  he  pic- 
tured was  the  anchor  of  his  own  soul. 

From  Rev.  James  Nilan.  of  St.  Peter's  church. 

I  feel  your  son's  loss  as  that  of  a  very  dear  friend.  Although  our 
doctrinal  religious  difference  was  deep  and  broad,  j^et  our  percep- 
tion of  the  spiritual  and  moral  side  of  the  Christian  faith  had  a 
close  relation  and  an  approximate  oneness.  His  conception  of  duly 
to  all  human  beings,  was  supremely  Catholic.  This  was  not,  with 
him,  a  mere  theory:  it  was  wrought  out  in  the  texture  of  his  own 
daily  life.  His  spirit  of  self-sacrifice,  the  chief  Christian  virtue, 
was  to  me  an  edifying  aspect  of  the  vital  force  of  Christian  prin- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  i75 


ciple,  which,  since  the  advent  of  Christ,  works  out  the  purposes 
of  God  under  all  forms  of  human  life. 

The  remembrance  of  our  discussions  of  religious  questions  in 
the  Literary  Club  meetings,  and  afterwards  in  the  Vassar  Institute, 
is  but  the  revival  of  intellectual  and  spiritual  intercourse  whose 
efifects  cannot  be  effaced  from  my  mind.  He  was  sincerely  Pro- 
testant, without  a  taint  of  bigotry;  he  was  scholarly,  without  vanity 
or  pride;  he  had  strong  convictions,  but  conviction  with  him 
meant  truth  made  so  clear  that  the  intellect  could  not  refuse  its  ac- 
ceptance. 

You  are  aware  how  far  asunder  are  the  doctrinal  formularies 
which  we  both  held.  And  there  is  hardly  a  tenet  of  belief  upon 
which  our  conversation,  for  many  years,  did  not  touch.  Yet,  never 
did  an  unkind  word  pass  between  us;  never  did  an  unkind  feeling 
find  a  resting-place,  for  a  moment,  for  each  other,  or  for  the  hon- 
est belief  of  either. 

Upon  a  certain  occasion,  when  an  agnostic  friend,  whom  we  both 
esteemed  for  his  noble  qualities,  found  difficulty  in  seeing  how  any 
reasonable  man  could  believe  the  Immaculate  Conception  of  the 
Virgin  Mother  of  the  Redeemer,  I  remember  how  Dr.  Lawrence 
rather  enjoyed  the  effect  of  my  reply  to  the  honest  sceptic. 

"You  yourself.  Dr.  S.,"  said  I,  "believe  in  the  Immaculate  Con- 
ception." "By  no  means,"  he  replied,  "it  contradicts  the  known 
laws  of  nature,  which  are  unchangeable."  "Not  only  you  do,"  I 
rejoined,  "but  you  believe  it  in  your  own  case,  and  even  that  all 
human  beings  enjoy  the  same  privilege.  In  order  to  prove  this, 
let  me  ask  you  what  do  you  understand  by  the  doctrine  of  the  Im- 
maculate Conception?"  "It  means,"  he  answered,  "that  the  Virgin 
Mary  had  no  human  father."  "That  is  not  what  the  Church 
teaches,"  I  subjoined,  "but  simply  that  the  Blessed  Virgin  from 
the  first  instant  of  her  existence  was  exempted,  by  a  special  grace, 
from  the  penalty  which  human  nature  incurred  from  Adam's  origin- 
al transgression.  Now,  you,  not  believing  in  original  sin,  but  re- 
garding the  story  of  its  transmission  as  a  myth,  consider  that  not 
only  the  Virgin  Mary,  but  all  children  of  men  enjoy  the  privilege  of 
immaculate  conception." 

The  honest  man  candidly  acquiesced  in  the  inevitable  conclusion 
from  his  own  premises. 

This  is  but  one  of  the  many  impressive  incidents  that  arose  from 
my  association  with  your  esteemed  son.  When  I  say  that  he  fre- 
quently comes  before  my  mind  in  prayer  for  the  departed  just  and 
justified,  I  only  give  expression  to  what  friendly  nature  is  prompted 
to  accept  as  if  moved  by  the  light  of  grace.  Our  faith  teaches  us 
that  we  should  pray  for  those  who  depart  this  life,  even  without  its 
external  communion.  What  we  call  the  soul  of  the  Church,  which 
to  Protestants  may  be  the  invisible  church,  gives  the  right  and 
broad  interpretation  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Communion  of  Saints.  I 
recall,  with  a  deep  spiritual  sense  of  pleasure,  how  profoundly  im- 
pressed with  this  sublime  Christian  doctrine  was  Dr.  Lawrence. 
I  never  doubted  that  he  belonged  to  the  soul  of  the  Church,  and 
died,  as  he  had  lived,  faithful  to  conscience,  the  voice  of  God  to 
man.  James  Nilan. 


176   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


May  I  St,  1879. 

When  in  Brooklyn,  I  attended  a  Symphony  Concert  in  Stein- 
way  Hall,  where  I  heard  Beethoven's  Ninth  Syinphotiy,  Wagner's 
Kaiser  Marsch,  a  Chorus  from  Meistersingcr,  and  best,  the  Over- 
ture to  Tannhauser.    It  never  before  carried  me  so  completely  away. 
It  was  the  story  of  life,  the  song  of  the  world's  redemption.  At 
one  point,  the  music  was  broken  up  suddenly  into  a  fierce  tem- 
pest.  All  was  chaos  and  confusion.   The  foundations  of  life  seemed 
torn  up,  the  elements  were  in  conflict.    We  heard  only  the  hissing 
of  the  wind  and  rain,  and  the  sullen  swash  of  waves.    In  the  midst 
of  this,  uprose,  like  a  bird  born  in  the  storm,  a  gentle  melody,  in- 
describably serene  and  sweet.    While  the  tumult  raged  angrily 
about,  it  floated  on,  blithe,  careless,  free  of  wing  and  light  of  heart, 
as  if  it  had  nothing  to  do  but  sweetly  sing  its  joyous  life  out  to  the 
world.    The  storm  swelled,  seeking  to  crush  the  song.      But  the 
voice  in  the  storm  grew  stronger.    The  trouble  and  the  battle 
could  not  touch  it.    It  swelled  forth,  it  became  a  song  of  triumph. 
Out  of  the  depths  of  discord  it  drew  other  voices  till  it  grew  into 
a  full  choir.    The  wind  still  whistled,  the  waves  dashed,  but  im- 
potently.    The  music  which  had  not  feared  the  storm,  now  com- 
manded it.    One  by  one,  it  grasped  the  powers   of  discord,  and 
drew  these  all  up  into  its  now  stately  sweep.    It  spread  from  the 
inner  centre  of  peace  out  to  the  farthest  limits  of  confusion.  The 
storm  grew  distant.    It  was  dying  away, — all  hate,  all  trouble  ceas- 
ing.   The  glorious  hymn  of  praise  gathers  all  life,  all  the  world, 
into  itself.    It  is  the  Chorus  of  Victory.    It  is  God's  own  song  of 
the  universe,  now   chanted,  an  everlasting  paean,   by  multitudes 
without  number.     O  glorious  hymn  !   This  is  heaven.    The  world  is 
redeemed.    Praise  God  in  the  highest!  on  earth  peace,  good  will 
to  men!   Thus  the  voice  of  Christ  is  swelling  through  the  centuries 
into  the  song  of  the  church  and  the  redeemed! 

Your  wedding  day  was  not  forgotten.  Fort}-  years,  too'  How 
that  happy  silver  wedding  at  Dingle  Side  shines  in  my  memory!  I 
hope  to  be  at  home  in  time  to  help  you  about  the  house,  so  j-ou  need 
not  hurry  to  get  through. 

Belle^-ue,  June  21st,  1879.  9.45  p.  m. 
Here  I  am  in  a  perfect  summer  retreat.  The  great  river  flows 
calmly  by.  Opposite,  lies  the  city,  half  hid  among  the  trees.  College 
Hill  crowning  the  whole,  the  houses  glimmering  in  their  lights 
while  in  front,  on  the  line  of  the  river,  is  the  upper  furnace,  with 
its  two  fiery  chimneys  seeming  like  the  gigantic  eyes  of  some  huge 
creature,  whose  face  I  trv^  to  fill  out.  I  have  been  full  of  delight, 
ever  since  I  came,  wandering  from  spot  to  spot  with  a  strange  feel- 
ing of  being  so  far  from  my  work,  and  yet  so  near  to  it.  It  seems 
like  the  meeting  of  two  different  worlds. 

From  his  journal: — 

I  believe  that  man  has  everj'  potency  of  divine  life  within  him, 
and  that  Scripture  rests  on  that  from  beginning  to  end;  that  there 
ran  be  no  revelation  of  the  Divine  unless  there  be  a  divine  element 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  J K.  177 


to  which  it  is  revealed.  "Dead  in  sins,"  we  are  certainly  called,  yet 
it  is  a  death  which  is  sleep.  "Awake!"  The  foundation  for  all  the 
Bible's  appeals  and  for  ours  must  be  that.  I  want  my  preaching 
to  be  Christian,  spiritual,  ethical,  emotional,  intellectual,  in  some- 
what that  order.  The  Bible  is  the  model  and  main  source  of  all 
this.  So  I  take  the  Biblical  method  as  a  method,  not  as  an  aim. 
I  want  to  preach  Christ.  And  I  want  to  study  Christ  and  the 
Bible  rather  than  any  special  doctrines. 

I  was  reading,  yesterday,  the  Life  of  Dr.  Arnold.  How  great  his 
attachment  to  his  school!  It  seems  to  me  to  show  in  some  re- 
spects what  a  pastor  inight  become  to  his  people.  There  should 
be  the  strong  family  feeling,  the  one  mind  and  purpose  pervading 
all,  independence  of  thought  and  action  regulated  to  harmony  by 
affection,  faith  and  worship — the  pastor  everywhere  felt,  yet  im- 
pressing not  his  own  name,  but  Christ's  on  their  heart.  I  hope 
for  something  of  this  here,  and  am  willing  to  work  long  for  it. 

It  may  not  be  amiss  to  give  extracts  from  a  few  other 
Poughkeepsie  letters  which  have  brought  great  comfort  to 
Edward's  mother.  The  following  is  from  the  young 
daughter  of  a  family  in  which  he  was  deeply  interested: — 

The  memory  of  our  friendship  with  Mr.  Lawrence  is  almost  too 
sacred  to  attempt  to  put  in  words  the  sense  of  our  personal  loss. 
Feeling  thus,  we  can  realize  to  some  extent  the  greatness  of  your 
sorrow. 

When  I  first  knew  him  I  was  a  child,  and  he  was  my  ideal  of  true 
manhood.  As  I  grew  older,  my  childish  faith  was  never  shaken. 
Christmas  was  not  Christmas  until  he  had  come  with  his  cheery 
greeting  and  had  seen  our  gifts. 

I  feel  that  it  was  his  encouragement  that  helped  me  to  undertake 
the  risks  which  my  four  years  at  College  involved,  and  remember- 
ing his  sympathy  and  the  stimulus  he  gave  to  better  things,  I  have 
a  heart  full  of  gratitude.  Then  I  remember,  when  sorrow  came  1:o 
us,  how  helpful  were  his  words  of  comfort.  As  I  write  it  brings 
it  all  back  and  makes  words  difficult. 

I  have  always  felt  that,  though  I  had  not  seen  him  for  years, 
should  any  great  calamity  befall  us,  my  first  wish  would  be  to 
have  him  with  us.  When  the  word  came  that  he  had  passed  away, 
the  world  seemed  changed,  but  Heaven  was  nearer. 

From  one  of  his  church  members : — 

He  was  so  kind,  so  earnest,  so  thoughtful  of  others,  so  unselfish, 
so  sympathetic,  so  true,  so  brave,  that  he  always  appealed  to  the 
best  in  his  friends.  He  became  to  me  more  like  an  ideal  brother, 
one  whom  I  could  always  trust,  on  whose  sympathy  and  good 
judgment  I  could  always  depend.  I  never  knew  a  more  thoroughly 
consecrated  man.  He  held  such  close  communion  with  his  Sa- 
viour, that  more  and  more  he  seemed  to  grow  into  his  likeness.  He 


178   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


was  always  searching  out  into  some  hitherto  neglected  portion  of 
the  Master's  vineyard  and  bidding  laborers  enter  therein. 

Another  writes: — "He  was  to  us  an  example  and  an 
inspiration  in  his  sincerity,  his  earnestness,  his  forgetful- 
ness  of  self  and  his  consecration  to  Christ.'' 

When  Irving  Elting,  for  whom  Edward  had  a  sincere 
friendship,  concluded  to  settle  as  a  lawyer  in  his  native  city, 
it  gave  his  pastor  much  satisfaction.  That  Mr.  Elting 
fully  reciprocated  his  interest  the  following  letter  testifies: 

No  words  can  adequately  convey  my  very  high  regard  for  your 
son.  His  personality  was  one  of  the  most  attractive  with  which 
I  have  come  in  contact.  He  impressed  me  at  first,  and  always  the 
more,  the  longer  I  knew  him,  by  his  evident  genuineness,  his  whole- 
souled  sincerity. 

When  I  returned  from  Cambridge,  after  my  graduation,  I  found 
him  at  the  head  of  a  Walking  Club.  By  his  invitation  I  joined 
in  its  Saturday  afternoon  tramps  in  various  directions.  In  these 
rambles  I  came  to  know  and  appreciate  his  simple,  wholesome 
nature.  Well  do  I  remember  his  love  for  the  early  spring  flowers, — 
especially  the  trailing  arbutus,  whose  most  secret  haunts  he 
seemed  to  have  discovered  instinctively,  as  he  led  our  blind  but 
willing  steps  to  fields  gorgeously  arrayed  in  their  Easter  dress. 

From  the  acquaintance  made  in  this  informal  way,  I  was  not 
surprised  to  find  him  holding  broader  theological  views  than  I 
should  otherwise  have  expected.  Recognizing  the  sincerity  of  the 
reasons  which  had  prevented  my  joining  the  church,  he  requested 
me  to  take  charge  of  the  Young  Men's  Bible  Class. 

I  should  not  do  justice  to  the  breadth  and  strength  of  Mr. 
Lawrence's  character,  did  I  not  add  a  word  concerning  his  in- 
fluence on  the  whole  city.  In  both  social  and  political  reforms 
his  untiring  efforts  were  always  exerted,  our  Political  Reform  Club 
owing  much  of  its  life,  if  not  of  its  very  inception,  largely  to  him. 
And  in  his  departure  for  Syracuse,  not  only  his  church  people,  but 
the  whole  city  experienced  a  recognized  loss.  In  the  number 
of  days  his  life  seemed  short,  but  in  the  best  sense  it  was  a  life  full 
to  overflowing. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


IN  THE  TOWER. 

Society  or  Solitude — which  shall  it  be?  Your  question  is  wrong. 
It  is  not  either — or;  but  society  anrf  solitude.  You  should  not 
divorce  them.  Society  alone  dissipates.  Solitude  narrows.  Both 
must  co-operate,  as  air  and  earth.  Keep  your  roots  deep  in  the 
dark  soil,  spread  your  branches  wide  in  the  open  air.  To  eschew 
either  is  to  live  a  half-life.   If  you  fear  either,  something  is  wrong. 

— E.  A.  L. — "Arrows." 

Abraham  Hasbrouck's,  Bellevue  Villa,  Ulster  Co.,  N.  Y. 

July  sth,  1879. 

In  the  tower  room,  here,  on  the  top  of  the  bluff,  overlooking  the 
river,  I  have  my  home  for  July.  It  is  a  small  room,  with  a  window 
on  each  of  three  sides,  looking  up  and  down,  across  the  Hudson. 
Poughkeepsie  stretches  up  the  other  bank,  half  hidden  in  the  trees, 
guarded  above  and  below  by  the  sentinel  furnaces,  pillars  of  cloud 
by  day,  and  of  fire  by  night.  The  two  chimneys  opposite  glare  in 
the  darkness,  like  two  gigantic  eyes  of  some  huge  monster,  mak- 
ing a  double  track  of  light  across  the  river.  Above,  with  its  broad 
fields  stretching  out  in  front,  is  the  Insane  Asylum.  Just  opposite 
is  College  Hill,  the  long,  white,  Greek  temple  everywhere  visible. 
Along  the  line  of  the  river,  is  the  railroad  track,  here  seen,  there 
hidden.  Express  trains  rush  by  and  long  freight  trains  creep  up 
and  down,  day  and  night.  The  shore  opposite  juts  out  in  little 
points  and  curves,  and  down  the  river  stretches  on  in  long  sweeps, 
towards  the  projecting  shore  of  this  side  in  an  acute  angle.  The 
southern  horizon  is  marked  by  a  hilly  promontory  meeting  the 
more  distant  Fishkills,  which  sweep  away  to  the  left.  In  the 
middle  of  the  river  is  the  one  pier  and  caisson  of  the  projected 
bridge.  Right  beneath  us,  the  high  banks  are  thick  with  trees, 
and  vocal  with  birds.  How  marked  the  contrast  between  change 
and  fixedness!  The  smoke  gliding  away  from  the  furnaces,  the 
leaves  fluttering  on  the  trees,  the  little  ferry-boat  plying  to  and 
fro,  suggest  only  change.  The  rest  looks  fixed.  The  clouds 
seem  bound  to  their  place,  the  river  is  apparently  a  dead,  motion- 
less surface.  Yet  I  know  that  the  river  is  ever  sweeping  on,  and 
the  clouds  ever  shifting.  Just  so  is  everything  in  life  moving  on, 
in  one  ceaseless  stream  of  change. 

I  write  from  the  tower,  this  blessed  tower!  Not  for  a  long  time 
have  I  had  such  quiet  rest  and  happiness, — not  the  vacation  care- 
lessness, but  the  content  of  happy  work  amid  the  peace  of  nature 
and  the  joy  of  life.    The  pressure  and  strain  which  so  often  come 


l8o    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


from  within  seem  absent,  and  it  is  as  if  life  welled  up  and  every 
day  was  better  than  the  preceding  one.  I  seem  to  sit  on  the  watch 
tower  and  think,  and  write  while  the  world  sweeps  by. 

Yesterday,  I  preached,  morning  and  evening,  on  the  Prevention 
of  Crucify  to  Aniiuals.  Mr.  Matthew  Vassar  furnished  most  of 
my  material,  and  took  pains  to  notify  others.  I  confined  myself 
to  ordinary  ground,  reserA'ing  my  special  heresy,  as  to  hunting  and 
fishing,  for  another  occasion. 

I  rise  at  half-past  six,  take  a  swim  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  am 
ready  for  breakfast  at  half-past  seven.  By  the  by,  I  married  a 
couple,  yesterday,  and  can  put  the  fee  to  no  better  use  than  to  send 
it  to  you  for  amusements.  I  want  you  and  father  and  Anna  to 
go  out  boating  or  riding  every  day.  When  this  is  gone  I  will  send 
more.  Now,  remember  that  it  is  not  to  be  used  for  anything  use- 
ful, but  for  entertainment.  And  I  want  father  to  go  to  Vermont 
and  visit  his  relations  at  my  expense,  for  he  needs  the  rest. 

Schloss  Schonaussicht,  July  8th,  1879. 
Yesterday,  I  breakfasted  at  half-past  six,  walking  to  Highland, 
where  Mr.  Adriance  joined  me,  and  we  walked  on  to  John  Bur- 
roughs's,  whom  you  know  as  a  more  sociable  Thoreau,  and  who 
is  very  simple  and  very  friendly.  I  reached  home  at  twelve, 
plunged  down  the  bank,  and  sprang  into  the  river  for  a  swim, 
coming  up  just  in  time  for  dinner.  Then  right  away  for  the  boat, 
spending  the  afternoon  in  making  calls  on  my  people.  New  faces 
are  here,  but  1  cling  to  my  dear  Mrs.  Vreedenbergh,  seventy-five 
years  old.  Thanks  for  the  clippings  you  sent.  I  am  reading  Brown- 
ing with  delight. 

The  Tower,  July  i6th,  1879. 
There  have  been  three  terrible  days,  each  hotter  than  the  preced- 
ing. To-day,  it  was  98  in  Poughkeepsie.  An  hour  ago  black 
clouds  came  to  the  northwest,  with  rumblings  of  thunder,  but 
passed  by.  Then  the  wind  up-started  and  rushed  over  the  woods.  I 
was  in  my  hammock,  where  I  could  see  it  all.  It  spread  down  the 
river,  sent  long  lines  of  waves  along  the  stream,  whitened  the  caps 
and  blackened  the  whole  river.  It  leaped  over  to  the  city,  envelop- 
ing it  in  a  cloud  of  dust.  The  sloops  furled  their  sails  and  the  sky 
was  overcast.  At  last  it  spilled  over  the  edges  in  long  sheets  of 
vapor-like  rain,  till  it  poured  down  in  torrents.  The  trees  tossed 
to  and  fro,  up  and  down,  as  if  they  were  fighting  the  storm.  The 
wind  hurtled  the  rain  on  in  waves,  and  all  beyond  the  house  was 
hidden.  But  now  the  clouds  have  passed  by,  the  wind  has  died 
away,  the  birds  are  singing  as  if  they  had  thought  the  world  was 
dead,  but  find  it  alive.  The  trees,  freshly  green  and  glittering  in 
new  robes  of  light,  wave  to  and  fro  in  serenest  content. 

Highland  Castle,  July  22nd,  1879. 
Please  tell  me  when  you  have  to  pay  the  taxes  and  insurance,  and 
I  will  see  them  provided  for.  I  shall  prize  Uncle  Leonard's  um- 
brella. How  precious  such  relics  become!  What  a  hard  time, 
dear  mother,  you  have  been  having  with  sprains  and  bruises!  You 
come  through  them  wonderfully,  however.    But  do  be  more  careful. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


i8i 


Highland  Castle,  July  28th,  1879. 
Yesterday  was  a  red  letter  day.  Early  in  the  morning  it  cleared 
delightfully.  Then  began  the  preparations  for  the  open  air  ser- 
vice. We  had  had  several  rehearsals  for  the  music.  When  I  got 
back  from  church,  at  noon,  I  found  the  benches  all  arranged,  a 
nice  platform  built  for  me,  a  cabinet  organ,  and  afterwards  bou- 
quets appeared.  I  had  engaged  Captain  Brinkerhoff  to  give  the 
services  of  his  little  boat,  which  brought  about  thirty,  while  car- 
riages came  from  all  around.  It  was  a  delightful  audience,  under 
trees,  in  full  view  of  the  river,  and  I  know  not  when  I  have  so  en- 
joyed a  service.  "A  man  shall  be  as  rivers  of  water  in  a  dry  place," 
was  my  text,  and  I  used  the  grand  river  which  swept  before  us  in 
its  source,  its  course,  its  end,  to  illustrate  the  true  life  which  has 
its  source  in  God,  employs  its  course  in  service,  and  flows  towards 
the  ocean.  I  have  seldom  enjoyed  preaching  so  much,  and  could 
not  but  be  grateful  for  the  response  it  met  with.  The  business 
gentlemen,  who  come  up  from  New  York  for  Sundays,  did  every- 
thing to  make  the  meeting  a  success,  and  only  reluctantly  gave 
up  a  collection  for  any  object  I  might  name.  Between  250  and  300 
were  there. 

Highland  Castle,  August  2nd,  1879. 

On  Tuesday  came  a  grand  walk  with  the  Misses  Lily  and  Kate 
Wilkinson,  over  hill  and  dale,  starting  at  half-past  eight,  and  not 
reaching  home  till  after  five.  We  took  chocolate  and  bananas 
and  feasted  on  berries.  I  dashed  down  to  the  river  and  took  a 
good  swim,  and  then  what  an  appetite!  Wednesday  morning,  I 
took  the  little  Hasbrouck  boy  down  to  the  river,  and  letting  him 
row  the  boat  near  me,  I  swam  across,  about  half  a  mile,  and  with 
very  little  fatigue.  I  often  sleep  in  the  hammock  near  the  tower. 
It  is  delightful  to  lie  there  and  look  on  the  glistening  river,  to 
see  the  flush  before  dawn,  and  hear  the  early  concert  of  birds.  Soon 
the  ferry-boat  makes  her  first  trip,  and  at  last  the  "Powell"  steams 
by,  which  is  my  signal  for  descending  to  the  river  for  my  bath. 
Yesterday,  after  going  to  the  almshouse,  I  spent  the  afternoon 
on  the  books  of  the  C.  O.  S.,  which  I  shall  do  to-day  also. 

Monday  afternoon,  I  am  to  meet  Mr.  Hall  at  Saratoga,  and  to 
go  on  with  him  to  the  Adirondacks. 

Prospect  House,  Upper  Saranac. 
I  carry  my  old  knapsack  of  many  memories,  a  rubber  blanket, 
a  flannel  shirt,  extra  stockings,  reading,  etc.  At  .A.usable  station 
we  took  the  top  of  the  stage,  and  rode  through  Ausable  Forks 
and  Black  Brook  to  French's,  where  we  had  dinner,  then  on 
again,  shaken  and  jolted  and  oscillated,  brother  Hall  reeling  of? 
his  stories  by  the  way  till  we  reached  Bloomingdale.  He  tells  a 
story  of  a  lawyer  who  said  of  his  adversary  in  court,  "He  has 
roamed  with  old  Romulus,  he  has  soaked  with  old  Socrates,  he 
has  candied  with  old  Cantharides.  he  has  ripped  with  old 
Euripides,  but  what  has  he  said  about  the  laws  of  Arkansas?"  "I 
deny  the  allegation,"  was  the  response,  "and  defy  the  alligator." 


1 82    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Jonathan  and  David,  as  they  playfully  called  themselves, 
had  given  directions  for  the  building  of  a  boat  of  their  own, 
of  which  Edward  gives  an  account  in  a  letter,  dated: 

Blue  Mountain  Lake,  Ordway's  Hotel,  Aug.  6th,  1879. 
The  boat  had  been  on  my  mind,  of  course,  and  the  one  who 
made  it  had  it  here  in  waiting  for  us.  We  went  at  once  to  the 
boat-house.  It  was  there,  a  beauty,  floating  like  a  feather  and 
running  like  a  duck.  I  had  brought  from  Poughkeepsie  two  cane- 
bottomed  seats,  which  were  fitted  in.  We  have  been  out  in  it, 
floating  like  a  cork  over  the  waves,  and  pronounce  it  a  success. 
I  had  suggested  blue  for  the  inside  and  white  outside.  And  among 
the  hundreds  of  boats,  on  these  lakes,  there  is  no  one  like  it.  We 
have  named  it  for  my  sister,  so  Nannie  0.  is  painted  on  each 
side  of  the  white  bow.  It  weighs  seventy-seven  pounds,  is  made 
of  pine  clapboards,  has  spruce  roots  for  joints,  oars  of  maple,  paddle 
of  black  cherry,  a  yoke  of  pine.  There  is  not  a  nail  in  it,  but 
nearly  4,000  tacks  and  1,700  screws.  Our  two  cane-bottomed  seats 
and  one  board  seat  in  the  middle, — the  whole  costing  fifty-two 
dollars. 

Winding  along  in  the  Nannie  O.  we  came  out  into  the  beautiful 
Raquette,  our  own  Raquette,  and  are  now  in  our  old  camp  at 
Hathorn's.  How  delightful  it  is  here!  The  boughs,  the  fire,  the 
woods,  the  stars  through  the  trees  at  night  and  the  sparks  seem- 
ing like  earthly  imitations,  time's  copies  of  eternal  things,  the  un- 
rest, the  quick  dance  and  chase  and  sudden  going  out,  while  the 
ceaseless  fires  above  burn  on  in  silence.  Oh,  the  smell  of  the 
woods,  and  the  view  from  the  beach!  Have  you  ever  seen  pink 
water  lilies?   We  found  them,  yesterday,  for  the  first  time. 

On  Friday  afternoon,  at  about  two  o'clock,  we  concluded  to 
take  a  trip  through  Tact  Inlet  to  a  pond  of  the  same  name.  As 
our  boat  was  too  long,  Mr.  Hathorn  let  us  have  a  little  red  one. 
So  putting  up  our  lunch,  we  started  of?.  The  v/ind  was  stiff 
against  us,  and  the  waves  high,  as  we  went  up  the  bay  and  then 
out  into  the  inlet.  The  stream  winds  through  an  immense  swamp, 
bordered  by  forests.  The  swamp  is  thick  with  bushes  but  gives 
hardly  any  foothold.  Round  and  round  we  went,  I  rowing,  Mr. 
Hall  paddling,  shooting  round  the  strangest  curves  imaginable. 
The  stream  narrowed  to  a  brook,  then  to  a  rivulet.  We  rowed  as 
far  as  we  could,  often  resting  both  oars  on  the  opposite  banks 
and  pushing  the  boat  in  the  water.  But  soon  the  brook  twisted 
around  under  the  bushes.  Down  went  the  oars.  "We  pushed  and 
pulled  and  poled  in  a  rill  four  or  five  feet  broad,  dashing  forward 
at  almost  underground  passages  in  the  bushes,  getting  out  to  lift 
the  boat  up  rapids,  over  logs,  round  curves.  At  last,  off  came 
shoes  and  stockings,  up  rolled  trousers  above  the  knees,  and  into 
the  water  we  went.  It  was  like  scouting  through  an  enemy's  coun- 
try. Sometimes  the  top  of  the  boat  was  actually  broader  than  the 
river,  and  we  dragged  it  many  yards  over  sand  where  the  water 
was  only  one  inch  deep.    At  last  out  into  the  beautiful  little  lake, 


/ 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  1 83 

with  its  one  rocky  island,  and  just  behind  this  lay  our  camp.  Right 
in  front  was  a  huge  boulder,  against  which  a  fire  was  built,  and 
all  the  heat  was  thrown  back  into  the  camp. 

The  next  day  we  carried  the  boat  over  to  the  upper  pond. 
Blueberries  were  thick,  also  mosquitoes.  I  ate  berries  fast,  and  the 
mosquitoes  bit  me  fast,  and  I  doubted  whether  I  gained  or  lost 
more  in  weight.  Coming  back  through  the  inlet,  this  time,  we 
rigged  for  it.  Civilized  as  to  the  upper  part,  babarous  as  to  the 
lower,  we  stepped  into  the  stream,  one  grasping  the  boat  at  each 
end,  and  so  like  bare-legged  savages,  we  strode  through  the  crooks 
of  the  swampy  stream,  through  the  bushes,  over  sands  and  rocks, 
and  through  deep,  oozy  holes,  as  far  as  the  Eighth  Lake  Carry, 
then  dressed,  raced  round  the  curves,  out  into  and  over  the  lake. 

Brandeth's  Lake,  Aug.  12th,  1879. 
This  afternoon,  we  took  our  boat  over  a  pretty  hard  carry  of  two 
miles,  leaving  it  on  Salmon  Lake  till  to-morrow  morning.  This 
was  the  most  of  a  push  of?  we  have  made  alone  into  absolutely 
new  country,  following  a  little  foot-path  all  the  way  over  hills, 
through  swamps,  obstructed  by  many  fallen  logs,  pine  and  maple 
trees  about  us  for  miles  and  miles.  It  is  a  strange  feeling  to  be 
entirely  alone  in  the  wilderness.  Absolute  solitude!  Ridge  after 
ridge,  peak  after  peak,  smooth  and  grand,  away  into  the  hazy  dis- 
tance. The  water  beneath  was  dark,  and  here  and  there  was  struck 
into  blackness  by  pufifs  of  wind  dropping  from  the  mountains  as  if 
great  black  wings  were  suddenly  unfurled  from  the  depths  on  the 
surface.  I  sat  and  thought,  wondering  what  heavenly  slopes  and 
ridges  correspond  to  these  shadows.  We  sang  songs  together,  and 
then  went  down  through  the  woods,  striking  our  boat  just  where 
we  left  it. 

Smith  Lake,  Aug.  17th. 

We  have  had  a  memorable  day's  march.  .  .  First  we  had  to 
hunt  all  round  one  end  of  the  lake  before  we  could  find  the  outlet; 
then  to  lift  the  boat  over  a  jam  of  logs,  row  a  few  rods,  and  carry 
the  boat  three  quarters  of  a  mile,  the  worst  we  have  had.  Then 
again  we  stripped,  and  in  piiris  naturalibus,  except  shirt  and  vest, 
dragged  the  boat  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  As  we  dressed,  where  were 
my  shoes  and  stockings?  Left  behind.  So  into  the  boat  again 
went  L  back  to  the  carry,  and  there,  sitting  all  forlorn,  like  two 
sparrows  on  a  branch,  were  the  shoes.  Through  the  day  we  had 
short  carries,  long  drags,  little  rowing,  and  curves  which  would 
have  rolled  thread  into  a  knot.  We  waded  over  sand,  over  sharp 
stones,  rolling  over  rocks  big  and  slippery,  over  roots  and  snags, 
logs,  sharp  sticks — how  they  cut  the  feet! — through  deep  holes, 
cold  and  dark,  into  ooze  where  we  sank — no  one  knows  how  deep. 

This,  interspersed  with  carries,  past  rapids,  and  dried  up  streams 
and  into  lakes,  over  deserted  camps,  at  one  of  which  we  stopped; 
built  a  fire,  fried  pork  on  a  stick  and  dined.  Over  little  Salmon 
Lake  into  Mud  Pond;  nothing  but  ooze  many  feet  deep,  lily  pads 
growing  so  thick  I  could  hardly  row.  I  suppose  we  dragged  the 
boat  between  four  and  five  miles,  twisting  and  crooking  and  lift- 
ing till  the  water  deepened  so  that  we  could  get  into  it,  I  standing 


184   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


in  the  bow,  paddling  with  an  oar,  Mr.  Hall  steering.  We  pushed 
though  the  bushes,  which  met  over  the  stream,  every  now  and  then 
jumping  out  to  drag  the  boat.  The  afternoon  wore  on.  Still  I 
stood  and  paddled  round  and  round  like  a  top.  Going  as  fast  now 
as  we  could,  we  came  to  a  sharp  turn,  the  boat  slowed  up,  I  lost 
my  balance  and  lurched,  the  boat  tipped,  and  in  a  second,  the 
Nannie  O.  was  half  full  of  water.  And  there  floated  our  luggage. 
Land  on  the  point  at  once,  ship  the  cargo  over  with  the  boat,  out 
with  the  water,  back  all  things,  then  on.  It  was  now  a  broad, 
mucky  swamp,  covered  with  bushes,  mostly  blueberries.  On  the 
sandy  shore,  at  spots,  we  saw  many  tracks  of  deer,  and  then  of 
bears,  which  abound  in  these  parts.  Still  on  and  round  we  paddled, 
as  if  entangled  in  an  endless  labyrinth.  Occasionally  came  clusters 
of  tamarack  trees  or  hackmetack  which  feed  on  water.  Then  to 
spots  where  the  trees  seemed  to  have  been  dashed  about  by  some 
storm,  filling  the  stream,  and  where  a  way  had  been  cut  through 
with  the  axe.  An  occasional  foot-mark  on  the  shore  was  the  only 
sign  of  human  beings.  And  the  sun  was  setting;  should  we  have 
to  camp  in  this  swamp,  or  push  through  the  ooze  to  firmer 
ground?  At  length  we  can  row.  Then  we  shoot  on  for  half  a  mile, 
and  voila  the  lake  ! 

We  came  to  Lake  IMassawepie  just  at  sunset.  It  is  about  three 
miles  long,  with  graceful,  swelling  shores  and  mountains  in  the 
distance.  The  sunset  colors  were  on  the  water.  All  wears  an  air 
of  peace  and  beauty  as  not  of  earth,  lake  and  heaven  resplendent 
with  color,  land  and  water  melting  into  each  other.  We  sat  down 
in  silence  and  drank  it  in.  Then,  as  we  heard  voices,  we  left  be- 
fore it  should  be  disturbed  by  any  human  presence,  and  so  it 
abides  in  my  heart  and  memory. 

We  inquired  if  we  could  go  down  the  Raquette  river  by  moon- 
light, and  it  was  finally  thought  we  might  succeed.  So,  at  about 
nine,  we  started.  Beautiful  moonlight  mirrored  in  the  waters. 
Rocks  on  every  side  of  us  in  the  broad  river  lined  with  forests  and 
guarded  by  rolling  hills.  Shoot  across  the  river,  close  to  the  op- 
posite shore,  out  of  the  reach  of  the  rocks,  slowly  for  a  while,  then 
gradually  across  again  to  keep  the  left  shore.  And  now  the  boat 
flew  through  the  water  with  oar  and  paddle.  Never  so  fast  before. 
Soon  the  fog  began  to  creep  up.  Then  we  were  in  a  dense  bank  of 
mist,  and  the  moonlight  was  very  deceptive.  We  could  hardly 
distinguish  the  bank  from  its  reflection  in  the  water.  On  the  right 
a  lunar  rainbow  was  formed  in  the  fog,  resting  on  the  river,  and 
always  going  ahead  of  us.  Still  we  shot  ahead  at  full  speed.  As 
they  had  assured  us  there  were  no  rocks  we  went  on  in  faith.  Along 
among  many  low  islands.  Stop!  Great  threatening  rocks  loomed 
up  right  before  us.  Slowly!  then  on  again.  This  part  of  the  river 
is  called  the  Bog.  And  there  were  many  low  mud  islands.  We 
ran  on  one  or  two  but  came  off  easily.  And  now!  What  is  that 
light?  "It  is  the  will  o'  the  wisp,"  says  Jonathan.  Slowly! 
"Isn't  that  strange?"  "Or  else  the  light  of  a  camp."  No!  It  is 
gliding  over  the  water.  The  will  o'  the  wisp,  sure  enough.  No! 
Just  then  we  came  opposite  a  boat  gliding  along  close  to  the  shore. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


The  rowers  told  us  the  carry  was  near  by,  and  then,  notwithstand- 
ing their  Hght,  they  ran  into  a  snag.  The  roar  of  the  rapids  was 
close  to  us.  We  crawled  along  round  a  point.  Here's  the  carry! 
And  then  what  a  sight!  A  little  elfin  track  laid  on  logs  through 
the  entanglement  of  woods.  The  moon  clear  above.  Great,  gaunt 
trees  on  every  side.  The  river  rushing  and  roaring  past  huge 
boulders,  over  the  falls.  A  little  car  on  the  track,  on  which  we 
slid  our  boat.  A  sheen  of  mystic  light  everywhere  about.  It  was 
fairyland,  and  I  wish  I  could  paint  it.  Down  an  inclined  plane 
glided  the  car.  We  pushed  the  boat  into  the  water,  and  went  back 
to  behold  the  scene  once  more.  Then  a  mile  and  a  half  to  the 
sound  of  more  rapids,  and  we  landed  at  last  on  a  float,  drew  up 
the  Nannie  O.  for  the  last  time  this  year,  woke  the  dogs  and  also 
woke  the  people,  banged  at  the  door,  found  our  room  and  slept. 

Plattsburg,  Sept.  4th,  1879. 
I  cannot  tell  you  how  grand  a  Christian  companion,  friend, 
brother,  Mr.  Hall  always  shows  himself,  in  our  travels.  He  is 
fidelity  and  patience  personified.  We  still  divide  as  before,  he 
taking  the  jokes  and  I  the  facts.  We  have  been  over  eighty-three 
lakes  and  rivers,  traveled  about  250  miles  from  railroads. 

In  Edward's  frequent  intercourse  with  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
White,  of  Brooks  Seminary,  a  hearty  friendship  had  grown 
up  between  them.  And  he  was  glad  to  arrange  for  his  sis- 
ter's early  return  in  the  fall,  that  she  might  pursue  certain 
studies  under  the  care  of  Mrs.  White,  and  also  undertake 
some  teaching  in  the  seminary,  all  of  which  she  greatly  en- 
joyed. 

In  a  letter  to  his  mother,  Mrs.  White  writes: — "We  knew 
Edward  Lawrence  in  his  family,  in  social  life;  and  every- 
where he  was  a  living,  vitalizing  force,  and  felt  to  be  so  by 
those  who  differed  from  him  most  widely.  His  catholicity 
of  spirit,  his  kind  construction  of  the  actions  and  opinions 
of  opponents,  the  readiness  with  which  he  sifted  the  grains 
of  wheat  from  the  chaff  in  the  remarks  of  those  pitted 
against  him,  and  the  pleasant  smile  of  enjoyment  when  the 
opposing  side  scored  a  point,  won  the  admiration  of  every 
one,  and  put  both  sides  in  a  good  humor.  Yet,  through  it 
all,  he  forsook  not  one  of  the  foundation  principles  of  his 
belief;  he  only  acknowledged  the  manysidedness  of  truth. 
He  was  like  the  pure  air  and  sunshine,  a  part  of  the  glad 


1 86  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


universe  of  God.  Says  my  husband: — 'I  think  Mr.  Law- 
rence the  best  man,  all  in  all,  I  ever  knew.  I  loved  him 
very  much.' " 

Poughkeepsie,  Sept.  22nd,  1879. 
Tuesday  evening,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hall  came,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing we  took  the  "Powell"  at  seven  to  West  Point,  saw  a  cavalry 
parade,  and  at  half-past  eleven  started  for  Cornwall.  How  much 
I  thought  of  you,  dear  mother,  and  of  our  rainy  day ;  I  recalled 
where  it  began  to  rain,  where  we  took  our  lunch,  and  how  the  dis- 
tance grew  as  we  inquired  how  far  it  was  to  Cornwall,  so  that  we 
finally  ceased  to  ask. 

Study,  Oct.  20th,  1879. 
Our  Charity  Organization  circulars  are  being  distributed,  and 
that  work  will  soon  crowd  us. 

Oct.  27th,  1879. 

I  will  meet  you  at  the  boat,  and  we  will  come  up  here  in  time 
for  breakfast  at  half-past  seven. 

It  was  very  pleasant  to  be  again  in  the  same  home  in 
Garfield  Place  and  among  the  old  friends  there  and  in  the 
vicinity. 

In  November,  at  a  large  public  meeting  of  the  Charity 
Organization  Society,  Edward,  who  was  introduced  as  its 
father,  made  an  address  from  which  two  or  three  scattered 
passages  are  taken: 

Promiscuous  alms-giving  is  the  largest,  most  inefficient  and 
harmful  method  of  giving.  Wherever  you  make  a  beggar  you 
destroy  a  man.  At  the  basis  of  the  new  movement  is  co-operation. 
To  give  employment  to  those  who  need  it  is  the  true  basis  of 
charitable  relief.  .  .  Personal  visitation  can  accomplish  more 
than  anything  else.  We  want  men  and  women  who  will  visit 
families, — taking  them,  not  material  aid.  but  your  experience  and 
hope, — in  short,  taking  them  yourselves.  Christ  preached  the 
gospel  to  the  poor  and  gave — himself. 

Edward's  father  took  great  interest  in  this  society  and 
was  one  of  its  most  efficient  visiting  members.  Not  being 
very  well,  he  left  us  for  a  few  weeks  to  recruit  at  Heald's 
Hygeian  Home,  where  Edward  writes  him: — 

Poughkeepsie,  Monday,  Dec.  2nd,  1879. 
I  mailed  "The  Extra"  to  you,  Saturday  evening,  which  you  can 
read  and  digest  without  salt.     I  need  not  say  that  we  miss  you 
greatly. 

Mother  and  Anna  have  begun  returning  calls,  and  have  had  some 
amusing  adventures.  Some  people  always  do  have  things  happen 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  1 87 


to  them.  They  speak  for  themselves,  as  you  see.  Tell  us,  please, 
all  about  your  doings.    We  shall  welcome  you  back. 

Ned. 

During  the  winter,  Edward  preached  four  sermons  on 
Charity  and  Pauperism,  in  which  he  spoke  of  what  had  al- 
ready been  accomplished  and  of  what  they  desired. 

The  special  request  the  society  makes  of  all  is  that  they  should 
not  give  relief  of  any  kind  at  their  door,  without  full  and  accurate 
knowledge  of  the  case,  derived  either  from  their  personal  visita- 
tion, or  from  information  given  by  the  Society.  There  is  no  long- 
er any  reason  for  that  thoughtless  and  indiscriminate  giving  of 
doles  at  the  door,  which  creates  so  much  more  misery  than  it  re- 
lieves, but  which  cannot  relieve  a  tithe  of  the  misery  it  creates. 

The  aim  is  to  expect  permanent  results  in  character,  to  counter- 
act the  spirit  of  pauperism,  and  raise  the  needy  above  the  need 
of  relief.  There  can  be  no  more  difficult,  yet  no  more  sacred  work. 
Experience  must  be  our  constant  critic,  the  sympathy  of  the  pub- 
lic our  friendly  advocate. 

Absolute  distress  should  be  relieved  under  all  circumstances, 
and  the  children  of  vicious  parents  especially  cared  for.  But  if 
hunger  will  drive  indolent  men  to  work,  or  will  make  the  impro- 
vident frugal,  its  aid  should  not  be  rejected.  Throughout  the 
whole,  manhood,  womanhood  are  the  prime  objects.  Whatever 
contributes  to  that  is  charity;  whatever  hinders  it  is  harm,  no  mat- 
ter how  well  meant. 

And  so  the  work  has  begun  and  goes  on.  It  is,  as  I  have  said, — 
a  work  for  manhood  and  womanhood. 

"And  men  who  work  can  only  Work  for  men. 
And,  not  to  work  in  vain,  must  comprehend 
Humanity  and  so  work  humanly. 
And  raise  men's  bodies  still  by  raising  souls. 
The  man  most  man,  with  tenderest  human  hands. 
Works  best  for  man,  as  God  in  Nazareth." 

Poughkeepsie,  April  12th,  1880. 

My  Dear  Birthday  Mother:— 

As  I  said  recently,  you  certainly  are 
the  best  mother  I  ever  had.  More  than  that,  you  are  a  dear,  good, 
patient,  loving  mother,  whom  we  do  not  half  appreciate.  God 
does,  though,  and  teaches  us  to  do  so.  There  never  was  a  time 
when  I  so  realized  how  much  you  have  done  for  me.  Yet  the  whole 
will  never  appear  till  the  day  when  all  appears.  But  may  God 
bless  you  every  day,  and  through  us,  so  that  we  can  make  your 
last  days  to  be  your  best  days.  Rest  I  suppose,  you  never  will, 
so  long  as  you  can  work,  but  your  heart  will  rest  if  surrounded 
by  love.   And  don't  be  tired  of  helping  your  son,  who  loves  you. 

Ned. 

The  busy  days  passed  quickly,  and  in  May  his  family  re- 


1 88   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


turned  to  their  seaside  home,  while  Edward  remained  as  a 
boarder  with  Mrs.  Abel,  who  took  the  best  care  of  him. 

May  7th,  1880. 

I  moved,  this  afternoon,  into  the  front  room,  and  the  associa- 
tions rushed  over  me  quite  homesickly.  What  a  good  winter  we 
have  had!  How  much  you  have  helped  me!  I  thanlt  God  for  your 
goodness  and  all  the  rest  of  it. 

May  nth. 

Mrs.  Abel  has  two  girls  who,  with  sufificient  waiting  on  and  wait- 
ing for,  do  well  enough.  I  think  we  shall  like  them  if  we  do  just 
as  they  want  to  have  us. 

Now  is  the  time  for  Apple  Blossoms,  and  I  wish  Anna  were 
here  to  sing  the  song  for  me.  I  am  not  yet  far  enough  off  from 
the  winter  to  know  all  that  it  has  done  for  me.  I  am  glad  we  had 
that  last  walk  together. 

Thursday  morning  I  felt  stupid,  but  had  sense  enough  to  throw 
down  my  books,  and  take  the  train  for  Rhinebeck,  fifteen  miles 
up  the  river,  and  then  walked  home.  I  write,  this  week,  a  sermon 
on  Words,  vain,  false,  cruel. 

Saturday  came  a  note  from  Lyman  Abbott,  telling  me  that  the 
New  York  and  Brooklyn  Association  meets  from  July  9- 11,  in 
the  Catskills,  and  inviting  me  to  join  them,  all  expenses  paid. 

June  7th,  1880. 

This  is  a  charming  Monday  morning.  My  delightful  study  is 
fragrant  with  flowers,  musical  with  bird  songs,  breezy  with  the 
morning  breath,  clear,  sweet  and  beautiful  with  the  summer  out- 
of-doors.  They  put  blinds  on  my  west  windows,  last  week,  which 
is  a  great  improvement.  I  grow  more  and  more  attached  to  the 
room.    Thank  father  for  his  dear,  good,  kind  letter. 

I  must  tell  you  about  my  butcher.  I  had  quite  a  talk  with  him, 
this  morning,  or  rather  he  with  me.  As  he  closed  he  said,  "Veil, 
now  shall  I  tell  you,  ven  I  first  used  to  see  you,  I  think,  veil,  dat 
ain't  much  of  a  dominie.  But  now,  I  come  to  think,  Dere  ain't 
none  like  him.  Oh,  you  spoke  out  so  clear  at  de  funeral  de  other 
day,  I  could  understand  every  word  you  say." 

On  his  way  to  New  York  to  join  the  company  going  to 
the  Catskills,  he  writes: — 

Steamboat  Mary  Powell,  June  gth,  1880. 
I  am  indebted  for  thought  and  stimulus,  not  only  to  Maurice 
and  Martineau,  but  quite  as  much  to  Bushnell,  Robertson,  Schleier- 
macher,  Nitzsch,  Tholuck,  Martensen,  Meyer,  Newman,  Hutton, 
Stanley,  Phillips  Brooks  and  others,  most  of  them  leaning  towards 
Broad  Church  indeed,  but  all  of  vital  Christian  piety.  I  have  lately 
taken  up  Edwards  on  Original  Sin.  It  is  refreshing  to  read  such 
a  work  of  a  great  mind.  It  is  clear,  simple,  serious,  earnest, 
logical.  There  is  much  in  it  I  like,  especially  where  he  speaks  of 
the  love  and  goodness  of  God.    And  as  against  his  antagonist,  I 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


189 


think  him  usually  in  the  right.    But  in  much  where  they  agree,  I 

cannot  help  differing  from  them  both. 

Edwards  argues  on  premises  which  I  can  by  no  means  accept, 
and  fails  to  discriminate  where  it  seems  to  me  most  important, 
while  on  some  points  I  cannot  help  regarding  his  theory  as  utter- 
ly false  and  unbiblical.  His  theory  of  the  Will  and  of  Nature,  I 
cannot  accept  at  all ;  indeed  he  confesses  that  under  the  theory  of 
a  self-determining  will  in  some  form,  the  Arminians  are  right. 
But  I  shall  read  him  more. 

On  Wednesday  afternoon,  I  went  on  board  the  Baldwin  at  New 
York. 

Mr.  Beecher,  with  one  or  two  others,  welcomed  me.  There  were 
about  seventy  Congregationalists  and  guests.  I  met  Dr.  Henry 
M.  Storrs,  who  introduced  me  to  Dr.  Conant,  a  Baptist,  and  they 
told  me  stories  about  grandfather  Woods.  Many  others  joined 
us  at  Cornwall.  At  Stamford,  we  were  the  guests  of  the  town,  some 
twenty  or  twenty-five  carriages  being  in  waiting  to  drive  us 
around.  We  were  luxuriously  dined  by  the  citizens,  Beecher 
and  Storrs  making  two  short  speeches.  Then  back  to  Temper 
House  in  Phenicia,  where  we  washed  and  rested.  At  supper, 
speeches  by  Drs.  Robinson,  Bevan,  Armitage,  Ingersoll,  and 
Beecher,  who  was  simple,  sweet,  childlike,  biographical.  Then  till 
late  on  the  piazza,  a  circle  of  story  tellers,  Bevan,  Robinson,  Beech- 
er, Martyn  being  chief.  This  morning,  prayer  by  Beecher,  simple 
as  a  child.  One  grows  to  love  him  very  quickly.  Here  I  decided 
to  leave  the  party,  and  run  up  into  the  mountains.  Dr.  Storrs' 
youngest  son  joining  me.  We  walked  twenty-one  miles,  through 
Stony  Clover  and  Tannersville.  My  night  dress  was  a  sheet 
wound  round  about  me,  because  everything  I  had  on  was  wet 
with  perspiration.  The  next  morning,  we  left  early  for  Kaaterskill 
Falls,  plunging  down  the  gorge  through  Palensville  and  Catskill. 
I  looked  like  a  tramp,  but  to  please  you,  I  found  out  the  stone  jug, 
— (the  name  given  to  the  stone  house  where  Judge  Cooke  used  to 
live)— and  called  on  Mrs.  Beach.  It  was  a  delightful  excursion, 
and  it  was  pleasant  to  associate  you  with  so  much  of  it. 

Poughkeepsie,  June  22nd,  1880. 

Yesterday  morning,  at  six  o'clock,  a  party  of  us  drove  out  to 
Lake  Minnierbaska,  the  sister  lake  of  Mohonk.  It  is  a  grand 
basin,  deep  down  in  the  rocks,  and  on  the  heights  above  it  stands 
the  house,  which  is  nearly  as  high  as  the  Catskill  Mountain  House. 
The  houses  here  and  at  Mohonk  are  owned  and  run  by  two  Smiley 
brothers, — Friends.  They  began  a  few  years  ago  at  Mohonk  on 
strictest  temperance  principles.  Failure  was  prophesied,  but  they 
have  made  a  great  success.    They  are  noble  men. 

June  28th. 

I  have  finished  Edwards  on  Orig,inal  Sin,  and  agreed  with  much 
and  dissented  from  much.  I  think  its  tendency  strongly  panthe- 
istic, though  I  do  not  fear  being  misled  by  this.  Edwards  does 
not  seem  as  true  to  the  facts  of  human  nature  as  Bishop  Butler, 
for  example  in  his  ethical  sermons,  but  to  be  too  much  under 


190    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


the  influence  of  a  preconceived  theory,  in  the  Hght  of  which  he 
discovers  and  interprets  all  his  facts.  I  do  not  find  him  clear 
enough  as  to  what  he  means  by  sin,  or  rather  by  personal  re- 
sponsibility, for  which  he  leaves  little  or  no  room.  His  criticisms 
of  opposing  doctrines  are  very  keen,  and  certainly  hold  good 
against  Pelagianism.  But  Miiller  on  Sin  is  far  more  satisfactory. 
The  chief  point  of  difTerence  is  on  the  matter  of  personal  responsi- 
bility. Then  Edwards  seems  to  treat  the  Bible  as  a  scientific  text 
book  on  theology,  which  I  do  not  understand  it  to  be. 

Again  he  writes: — "While  Edwards  is  dialectical,  legal, 
even  mechanical,  Miiller  seems  to  me  philosophical  and 
ethical,  and  that,  although  I  by  nO'  means  agree  with  his 
peculiar  theory.  Of  course,  I  consider  Edwards  the 
greater  man.  It  is  a  good  thing,  however,  to  read  them  to- 
gether.'' 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THE  EVER  BROADENING  FIELD. 

Kindness  has  converted  more  sinners  than  either  zeal,  eloquence, 
or  learning,  and  these  three  never  converted  any  one,  unless  they 
were  kind  also.  Perhaps  an  act  of  kindness  never  dies,  but  ex- 
tends the  invisible  undulations  of  its  influence  over  the  breadth  of 
centuries. — F.  W.  Faber. 

As  Edward's  father  was  seiiously  ill,  it  was  arranged 
that  he  should  come  home  and  see  him  safely  on  his  way  to 
the  Electropathic  Institute  at  Binghamton. 

On  his  return,  Edward  writes: — "I  met  father  in  Boston 
at  Mary  Pope's  about  six,  and  after  supper  we  went  to  the 
train.  I  enjoyed  the  whole  trip  with  the  dear  man  very 
much,  and  tried  to  take  good  care  of  him.  We  had  an  ex- 
cellent state-room  and  a  pleasant  voyage,  arriving  in  New 
York,  however,  a  few  minutes  too  late  for  the  train.  But 
I  took  him  to  the  Schaufflers'  where  he  remained  till  eve- 
ning, when  I  got  him  a  berth  on  the  sleeping  car  and  tele- 
graphed Dr.  Mills  to  meet  him.  My  ride  home  was  de- 
lightful, though  we  caught  two  fierce  squalls.  I  was  in  the 
pilot  house  all  the  time.'' 

Bellevue,  July  igth,  1880. 

Oh,  how  good  it  is  to  be  in  the  tower  again!  It  has  been  a  hard 
year.  There  has  been  a  waking  up  and  a  breaking  up.  I  have  been 
forced  into  greater  dissatisfaction  with  myself  than  ever  before.  My 
preaching  has  been  too  desultory,  not  enough  on  great  themes, 
but  on  incidentals.  I  have  not  been  animated  enough  by  one 
great  soul-absorbing  purpose,  for  which  everything  is  arranged, 
before  which  everything  should  give  way. 

The  moon  is  nearly  full,  and  I  thought  out  my  sermon  in  the 
tower-loft,  late  into  the  night.  I  have  been  gratified  to  find  how 
the  people  have  taken  to  heart  both  my  sermons  on  the  Uses  of 
Words. 

There  are  times  when  nature  seems  all  in  all  to  me.  Yet  I  feel 
the  human  element  and  the  charm  it  adds  the  harvested  fields, 


192    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


the  smooth  lawns,  the  cottage  hid  in  the  trees,  the  slender  thread 
of  a  wood-path,  with  the  memory  of  those  who  have  shared  such 
scenes  with  us.  Besides  that,  comes  "the  still,  sad  music  of  human- 
ity." But  every  form  is  full  of  delight, — this  great  river,  the 
thoroughfare  of  the  state,  of  several  states.  As  I  walk,  I  feel  an 
intense  energy  of  progression,  every  faculty  awake  to  action,  and 
at  the  same  time  an  ecstasy  of  apprehension,  every  sense  being 
full  to  delight,  and  the  mind  feeding  on  swift  glances  into  this 
beauty.  So  I  push  on,  and  then  at  times  stop  and  give  myself 
wholly  to  perception  without  movement.  But  the  other  is  more 
common,  as  if  the  energy  of  action  almost  overpowered  the  desire 
of  sensation. 

The  Tower,  July  25th. 

Dear  Roslein: — 

I  must  write  you  about  our  charming  second  air- 
service.  A  cottage  had  been  put  up  where  we  had  it  last  year,  but 
not  feeling  satisfied  with  the  proposed  site,  I  went  out  Friday 
afternoon  to  look  about.  Going  to  the  well,  I  saw  my  amphi- 
theatre rising  about  it  on  all  sides.  Then  came  the  thought  of 
Jesus  at  the  well,  and  at  once  I  dropped  the  subject  I  had  had 
in  mind  and  took,  "If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  to  me  and 
drink." 

On  Saturday,  ferns  and  flowers  were  gathered,  and  while  I  was 
at  church  the  arrangements  were  made.  So  at  noon  I  found  the 
well-roof  covered  with  ferns,  and  oak  leaves  plaited  over  the  curb. 
The  platform  was  close  to  the  well  and  back  and  above  it  was  a 
booth  of  green  branches,  while  wild  flowers  were  in  profusion. 
Above  and  around  me  were  rows  of  benches.  When  I  went  out 
at  four,  I  found  the  seats  filling  up,  and  the  ground  occupied  with 
carriages.  About  three  hundred  were  present.  I  referred  to  the 
well,  and  tried  to  show  the  soul's  thirst  and  its  remedy.  Never  did 
I  preach  with  more  satisfaction  and  delight. 

Bellevue,  July  28th,  1880. 
Still  these  days  go  on  their  delightful  course.  Every  time  I  come 
to  the  tower  the  view  seems  finer,  the  mountains  grander  in  their 
curve,  and  the  river  in  its  sweep.  And  to  these  comes  something 
from  the  whole,  a  gleam,  a  spirit,  a  presence,  which  rests  on  me 
with  inefTable  charm,  touching  the  deeper  springs  of  life.  At 
times,  it  creates  an  ecstasy  almost  wild,  at  other  times,  a  strange, 
sweet  melancholy,  as  if  it  met  outward  wants  only  to  waken  deep- 
er ones  within.  It  seems  to  put  me  in  touch  with  all  things,  even 
with  myself.  The  woods  and  hills  and  water  seem  translated  into 
my  own  inward  landscape,  and  into  every  fibre.  Sometimes  I  call 
from  the  tower  to  the  children  below.  They  look  all  around  in 
wonder,  not  knowing  whence  the  voice  comes.  So  I  think  God 
often  speaks  to  us  from  above,  and  we  know  not  whence  the  voice 
proceeds. 

The  Tower,  July  31st,  1880. 
The  Bellevue  time  is  nearly  at  an   end.    And   the   city  which 
seems  to  stretch  out  so  fair  is  hot  and  dusty.    At  times  I  feel  as 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


if  I  ought  to  share  more  the  life  of  the  people,  enduring  the  same 
heat  and  confinement.    I  must  come  over  later  next  year. 

Writes  a  friend,  who,  with  her  mother  and  sister,  used  to 
spend  several  weeks  of  the  summer  at  Bellevue: — "Mr. 
Lawrence  fulfilled  all  his  parish  appointments,  being  away 
often  the  greater  part  of  the  day.  But  he  was  always  there 
to  occupy  'the  prophet's  chamber'  in  the  tower,  and  to 
spend  the  evening  in  the  summer  house  with  a  little  party 
of  friends.  It  was  noticeable  that  those  who  gathered 
about  him  were  in  a  cheery  mood.  They  felt  the  charm  of 
his  faith-inspired  life  and  conversation,  and  not  infre- 
quently words  were  recalled  which  were  helpful  long  after 
they  had  dropped  from  his  lips.  One  of  the  most  secluded 
summer  houses  was  a  favorite  resort  with  him  for  writing 
sermons. 

"A  trait  which  made  a  marked  impression  on  the  mixed 
household,  was  his  unfailing  good  nature  and  kindness. 
Day  after  day,  he  was  ready  to  undertake  commissions,  and 
not  infrequently  went  some  distance  out  of  his  way  to  ac- 
complish them.    His  sympathy  and  tact  were  unusual. 

"While  at  Bellevue,  a  Walking  Club  was  started  which 
gradually  increased  till  it  numbered  about  fifteen.  The 
Constitution  and  by-laws  consisted  of  four  articles.  We 
were  to  walk  once  in  two  weeks,  on  Saturday  afternoon. 
Each  member  was  to  pay  his  own  fare,  take  his  own  lunch 
and  carry  his  own  wraps.  These  regulations  were  strictly 
observed,  to  the  special  gratification  of  the  ladies  of  the 
Club. 

"After  a  little  more  than  two  years,  from  marriage,  re- 
movals and  other  causes,  this  Club  dissolved,  rather  than 
disbanded,  leaving  a  legacy  of  rich  memories.  Tlie  wood- 
paths  and  highways  along  the  Hudson,  for  eight  or  ten 
miles  in  each  direction,  are  delightfully  associated  with  Mr. 
Lawrence.'' 

Referring  to  his  ministerial  life,  the  same  friend  adds. 


194   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


"Always  cenMe  and  patient,  wit':  st'v)i\,7  convictions,  after 
carehil  thought,  he  was  eager  to  work  in  whatever  direc- 
tion he  was  called.  The  social  and  sympathetic  side  of  his 
nature  was  clearly  marked.  In  the  midst  of  his  profes- 
sional work  he  conducted  an  interesting  class  in  Church 
History.  But  above  all  and  through  all,  his  life  showed  a 
constant  and  dominant  aim  to  draw  all  men  to  the  service 
of  his  Master." 

On  account  of  his  father,  who  he  hoped  would  be  able- 
to  return  in  August,  Edward  fixed  on  Marblehead  for  his 
headquarters  in  his  vacation,  making  his  outings  from 
there. 

Linden  Home. 

My  Dear  Father: — 

On  Friday  I  took  the  superb  walk  from  Salem 
to  Gloucester  through  one  continuous  park, — old  pine  forests 
guarding  luxurious  flower  gardens,  velvet  lawns,  winding  avenues, 
and  charming  cottages.  And  the  sea,  rolling  up  on  silver  beaches 
and  ragged  rocks.  I  know  nothing  equal  to  it,  except  Newport, 
which  has  infinite  riches  in  a  little  space.  The  sea  and  rocks  are 
best  of  all,  yet  the  woods  and  mountains  seem  dearest.  I  don't 
know.  The  sea  is  so  vast,  it  is  somehow  incomplete,  unrestful.  A 
mountain  or  a  valley  seems  more  to  have  beginning  and  end  in 
itself. 

From  a  letter  of  Edward's  to  the  Christian  Union,  enti- 
tled, A  Walk  around  Cape  Ann,  a  few  passages  are  taken 
relating  mainly  to  the  old  town  he  loved  so  well. 

August,  1880. 

A  strange  neck,  this  Nahant,  craning  itself  so  far  out  into  the 
ocean!  It  is  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  elegant  resorts  of  the 
kind  in  the  country,  and  we  shall  find  little  to  do  save  to  walk 
through  its  quiet  streets,  admiring  its  situation  and  charming 
homes.    It  has  an  air  of  serene  seclusion. 

Out  from  an  abode  where  elegant  repose  dwells  so  securely  it  is 
a  pleasure  to  emerge  into  the  busier  world,  and  wind  along  the 
coast  to  Marblehead.  Notices  to  trespassers  frequently  drive  us 
to  the  rocks,  but  they  cannot  hinder  our  course  as  we  go  on,  leav- 
ing Lynn  with  its  shoe  factories  and  Swampscott  with  its  cottages 
on  one  side,  till  by  way  of  Beach  Bluff  and  Clifton,  two  charming 
resorts  which  the  railroad  has  within  a  few  years  opened  to  summer 
residents,  we  reach  the  famous  old  town  of  Marblehead,  where 
"Floyd  Oirson"  was  indeed  "torr'd  and  futherr'd  and  corr'd  in  a 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


corrt,"  but  not,  as  the  story  goes,  "by  the  women  o'  Morble'ead," 
and  not  with  any  sort  of  justice. 

Here,  first  of  all,  is  the  dear  old  town  itself,  its  streets  as  crooked 
as  ever,  its  people  as  merry,  as  earnest,  and  as  warm-hearted, 
though  by  no  mean  as  unintelligible.  "How  quaint!"  are  the 
words  on  the  lips  of  all  visitors,  and  no  word  could  better  express 
its  character.  I  am  always  impressed  by  the  real  politeness  of  these 
men  who  lounge  about  the  wharves  of  Marblehead  or  sail  its  boats. 
Address  any  inquiry  to  a  group  of  them,  and  it  seems  at  once  as 
if  they  were  all  bent  on  the  same  errand  as  yourself.  You  ask  for 
your  friend  "Josh  Goss."  Before  you  know  it  they  are  all  on  the 
search  for  him,  and  "Jaush  Gaush"  rings  through  the  narrow 
streets.  "He  is  just  coming  in  from  the  Neck,"  half  a  dozen  voices 
tell  you,  and  a  crowd  gathers  to  help  you  deliver  your  message. 
Your  Marblehead  skipper  is  a  whole-souled  man,  as  tender  as  a 
woman  and  as  brave  as  a  lion. 

By  all  means  walk  through  the  town.  You  will  wonder  how  any 
one  can  be  straightforward  who  has  to  go  in  such  crooked  ways, 
but  here  is  a  case  where  character  and  environment  do  not  always 
correspond.  Abbott  Hall,  the  boast  of  Marblehead,  is  not  only  a 
fine  structure,  and  a  boon  to  the  place,  but  a  landmark  on  the  coast. 
Nothing  can  be  finer  than  the  effect  from  the  sea.  Rising  grandly 
out  of  the  rocks  and  clustering  houses  of  the  town,  it  seems  an 
ancient  cathedral,  with  its  spire  piercing  the  sky,  and  a  city  nest- 
ling for  protection  beneath  its  eaves. 

We  walk  to  the  Neck.  Practically  an  island,  it  lies  out  in  the 
sea,  begirt  with  rocks,  covered  with  residences  of  all  sorts,  from 
simplest  cottages  to  elegant  mansions,  surrounded  by  a  magnificent, 
ever-changing  panorama.  We  wander  along  its  pebbly  beach  and 
load  ourselves  down  with  wave-worn  stones  of  beautiful 
shapes  and  hues.  How  these  pebbles  hiss  as  they  roll  back  after 
the  wave  has  struck  them  !  "The  waters  rush  up  to  seize  us,"  says 
a  friend,  as  we  sit  there,  "and  go  back  grinding  their  teeth  because 
they  can't  get  us."  We  visit  the  church,  haunted  by  its  daily 
group  of  spectators,  climb  the  head,  follow  the  contorted  rocks 
whose  lines  are  even  more  crooked  than  the  streets  of  the  town, 
and  at  last  tear  ourselves  away  to  continue  our  course.  The  view3 
along  the  shore  are  more  and  more  extensive  as  the  land  shoots 
out  into  the  sea.  Turning  back,  we  see  Misery  Island,  Baker's 
Island,  Lowell  Island,  then  Marblehead  running  out  toward  us, 
with  the  tower  of  Abbott  Hall  always  conspicuous,  and  the  Neck 
jutting  out  still  beyond. 

Dear  Father: — 

We  hear  with  joy  of  your  continued  improvement, 
and  that  you  will  soon  be  able  to  return.  We  greatly  enjoy  your 
dear,  good  letters. 

We  have  here  as  guests.  Miss  McKown,  Miss  Stapleton,  Lucy 
Price,  Helen  Andrus,  James  Hosmer,  Miss  Gregory  and  others, 
awaiting  you.  To-morrow  I  start  for  Mt.  Desert,  meeting  Mr. 
Hall  at  Portland,  and  on  our  return  shall  expect  to  find  you  at 
home. 


196   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Bar  Harbor,  Aug.  1880. 
I  give  it  up.  I  have  no  words.  I  might  describe  the  ocean  alone, 
asleep  in  the  sunlight,  or  when  it  breathes  up  along  the  coast  — 
or  the  coast  with  its  grand  headlands,  and  sheer  and  jagged  cliffs, 
or  the  brotherhood  of  bald  mountain  peaks  and  ridges,  or  the  per- 
fect weather  we  have  had,  but  when  all  these  are  brought  together 
in  one  moment  and  one  impression,  I  can  say  nothing.  It  simply 
takes  away  my  breath.  I  have  seen  wilder  mountains,  grander 
lakes,  but  never  so  rugged  a  coast,  never  such  a  mass  of  large 
islands,  and  never  such  a  combination  of  all  the  beauties  of  land- 
scape.    It  has  simply  been  one  long  continued  Oh-h-h. 

When  Jonathan  and  David  reached  Linden  Home  and 
found  the  father  there  and  in  restored  health,  a  happy  week 
was  spent  in  walks  and  rides  and  rows  and  sails,  with  one 
bright  day  when  the  party  went  to  Misery  Island  under  the 
care  of  Capt.  Messervey,  taking  dinner  on  the  island. 

After  most  of  the  guests  had  left,  we  had  a  delightful 
visit  from  Mrs.  A.  D.  T.  Whitney,  Sunday  being  one  of  the 
days.  Edward  was  to  preach  in  the  little  chapel  on  the 
Neck,  and  as  there  was  then  no  regular  ferry  boat,  he  rowed 
tis  over,  and  after  preaching  to  us,  rowed  us  back  again. 

Monday  evening  we  had  a  musical,  in  which  his  sister, 
with  a  fine  accompanist  and  other  singers,  went  through 
Pinafore.  This  performance  Mrs.  Whitney  warmly  appre- 
diated. 

Twelve  years  later,  on  hearing  of  the  blow  which  had  so 
suddenly  fallen,  Mrs.  Whitney  wrote  the  following  letter: — 

I  know  the  "deep  places"  and  how  the  waters  seem  to  go  over 
one's  head.  It  is  only  the  "I  will  be  with  thee"  that  holds  us  from 
sinking.  I  know  what  bitter  days  you  must  be  passing  through 
"on  the  earth-side,"  and  how  hard  the  beautiful  home  will  be  for 
you.  Your  loss  would  not  be  so  great  if  you  had  not  had  so  rare 
a  blessing  to  lose.  I  speak  human-fashion.  You  know  you  have 
not  lost  it.  It  has  but  drawn  closer  to  you  than  ever,  and  forever. 
One's  life  is  not  taken  away  by  what  we  call  bereavement;  what 
has  been  made  ours  is  all  there,  here  and  beyond — forever.  No 
more  change  can  come  except  the  ecstasy  of  the  full  realization 
of  what  we  now  only  believe.  Christ  held  fast  to  his  "own,"  as 
we  do.  "I  will  that  they  whom  thou  hast  given  me  be  with  me 
where  I  am."  Those  whom  we  hold  fast  with  all  our  being 
cannot  be  wrenched  away.  God.  Himself,  having  once  given,  does 
not  take  back.    And  even  the  going  out  of  sight  is  but  coming 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  197 


closer  to  us, — more  into  the  heart  of  our  being  than  the  separate 
earthly  individuality  would  allow.  What  is  "face  to  face"  com- 
pared with  "heart  to  heart?"  "Face  to  face"  in  the  mortal  sets  a 
bar.  Heretofore  we  have  half  known,  half  possessed,  often  but 
half  understood;  henceforward,  beginning  instantly  with  the 
change  from  the  earthly  to  the  spiritual,  we  know  as  we  are  known. 
All  our  yearnings  mean  but  this.  We  are  so  near,  we  love  so  much 
more  than  ever;  it  is  the  pain  of  the  free,  unlimited  affection  strug- 
gling in  the  yet  imprisoning  flesh. 

I  saw  your  son  in  the  heart  of  his  home,  and  in  the  heart  of  his 
work  and  life.  One  of  the  days  was  that  perfect  summer  Sunday. 
I  have  never  forgotten  his  rowing  us  across  the  quiet  bay  to  the 
little  church  upon  the  headland,  and  then  telling  us  the  things  of 
the  kingdom.  His  whole  manliness  was  what  impressed  me;  in  his 
sweet  relations  with  father,  mother  and  sister;  in  his  strong,  ready, 
physical  power  of  service,  and  in  the  harmonious,  corresponding 
fulness  of  his  spiritual  life-force,  that  lent  itself  to  us  in  his  pres- 
ence and  his  words.  It  was  like,  and  I  think  I  have  said  so  to  you 
before, — the  rowing  of  a  little  boat  across  the  Lake  of  Galilee,  with 
a  young  St.  Peter  at  the  oars,  and  then  a  message  through  his 
ardent  lips  fresh  from  the  Master.  I  always  recognized  in  what 
after-knowledge  came  to  me  of  him,  the  fulfilment  of  what  I  felt 
in  him  then.  He  could  have  done  no  less.  And — you  were  his 
mother! 

May  this  letter  bring  the  comfort  to  some  other  hearts 
that  it  has  to  the  stricken  mother's. 

When  the  vacation  tilled  with  sight-seeing  and  friend- 
seeing  was  over,  Ned  returned,  refreshed  and  strengthened, 
to  the  work  he  loved  so  well. 

Poughkeepsie,  Sept.  13th,  1880. 

As  last  week  was  one  of  hard,  though  delightful  work,  I  was  not 
able  to  commence  my  sermon  till  Friday.  The  seats  in  the  church 
had  been  oiled  and  were  not  dry,  so  we  took  possession  of  the 
lecture  room.  It  was  so  pleasant  to  have  my  audience  near  me 
that  I  told  the  sexton  he  had  better  oil  the  seats  every  week. 

I  should  grieve  to  leave  this  region,  my  study,  my  church,  my 
people,  my  summer  home  over  the  river,  my  hills,  my  purple  au- 
tumn-glows,— they  have  become  a  part  of  me,  and  it  would  rend 
my  heart  to  leave  them  all. 

Poor  Bullen!  ofT  on  a  tear  again!  (One  of  the  reformed  drunk- 
ards, in  whom  Edward  was  particularly  interested.)  Monday  I 
went  on  the  search  for  him  and  found  him  at  last,  hidden  away 
under  a  shed  in  the  straw  at  the  bottom  of  a  sleigh.  He  was  just 
getting  over  his  spree,  and  cried  like  a  child  when  he  saw  me.  I 
kept  him  there  till  afternoon,  taking  him  his  dinner,  and  getting 
his  money  from  him.  He  is  well  out  of  the  peddling  business, 
and  I  have  found  a  place  for  him  in  the  hat  factory.  But 
Saturday,  he  slipped  away  and  got  a  drink.    He  came  to  church. 


198   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Sunday  evening,  and  I  preached  so  that  he  should  understand.  I 
found  him  waiting  to  speak  to  me,  still  slightly  in  liquor,  but 
choked  with  sobs.  "You  hit  me  very  hard,"  he  said,  "but  that 
is  just  as  it  should  be.  Don't  let  me  go.  I'm  going  down,  Mr. 
Lawrence,  I'm  going  down."  And  he  shook  with  emotion.  My 
heart  aches  for  him.  How  one  realizes  in  such  cases  the  im- 
potence of  all  merely  human  resolve!  I  feel  like  a  child  in  the 
presence  of  such  evil,  and  can  only  call  on  God  for  help. 

Sept.  27th,  1880. 

What  an  evening  I  spent  in  Brooklyn  at  Mr.  Thallon's!  Henschel  . 
is  simply  wonderful,  a  true  genius.    He  sang  among  other  things 
The  Two  Grenadiers,  and  I  felt  that  I  had  never  heard  it  sung 
before.    You  will  find  a  short  notice  in  next  week's  Christian  Union. 

.  .  I  shall  meet  you  at  Lowell  on  Tuesday  at  the  meeting  of 
the  American  Board. 

Oct.  i8th,  1880. 

What  a  good  time  we  had  at  Lowell!  But  I  write  to  say  that 
the  arrangements  for  the  house  are  definitely  made  and  all  are  ex- 
pecting you.  I  shall  appreciate  your  being  with  me  more  than 
ever.  Then,  as  Anna  is  to  be  in  Boston,  I  should  not  be  willing 
to  have  you  alone.  The  Jackson  house  is  quite  near  the  other,, 
and  is  very  snug  and  cozy.    I  am  ordering  potatoes,  etc. 

Study,  Oct.  25th,  1880. 
Well,  the  tremendous  strain  of  the  State  Association  is  over, 
and  I  never  felt  better.  The  week  was  one  of  almost  unmingled 
satisfaction.  The  session  at  Vassar  was  a  great  success.  Pres. 
Magoun,  Drs.  Strieby  and  Brown,  and  Henry  Ward  Beecher  be- 
ing the  speakers.  Thursday  evening  was  best  of  all.  If  I  had 
desired  any  public  recognition  of  my  services,  I  should  have  been 
more  than  satisfied  by  what  the  moderator  said  on  calling  me  out. 
According  to  the  custom,  I  am  the  essayist  next  year,  and  the 
subject  given  by  them  is  Progressive  Revelation,  just  the  sub- 
ject I  should  choose. 

Of  the  Poughkeepsie  gathering,  Col.  A.  B.  Lawrence  of 
Warsaw,  who  had  been  an  officer  in  our  Civil  War, 
writes: — "I  first  met  your  son  in  his  study,  to  which  I  was 
ushered  as  a  delegate  from  our  Warsaw  Congregational 
Qiurch.  The  similarity  of  our  names  led  us  to  inquiries  of 
our  ancestral  possible  relationship,  and  we  soon  found  that 
we  ran  back  to  a  common  father.  It  was  the  last  meeting, 
I  think,  that  Henry  Ward  Beecher  attended,  Edward  and 
his  Elmira  brother  being  also  there.  In  all  the  absorbing 
details  of  so  important  an  occasion,  provisions  for  enter- 
tainment, demand  for  skilful  guidance  of  the  many  union 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  1 99 


matters  upon  which  the  success  of  such  meetings  depend, 
he  never  forgot  to  look  after  me,  who  was  but  a  layman. 

"I  was  commissioned  by  our  Warsaw  church  to  secure, 
if  possible,  the  attendance  of  the  Association's  next  annual 
meeting.  As  Henry  Ward  Beecher  also  brought  an  invi- 
tation from  Plymouth  church,  I  expected  defeat.  But  I 
told  your  son  what  I  was  commissioned  to  do,  and  some 
how  it  was  done  He  found  time  to  accompany  me  to  the 
station,  and  saw  me  off  with  such  hearty  good  wishes  as  I 
shall  never  forget. 

"With  the  Association  the  next  year  came  a  full  house 
and  'Cousin  Edward'  as  our  guest.  He  took  our  hearts 
away  with  him.  My  aged  mother,  to  whom  he  was  so  defer- 
ential, spoke  affectionately  of  him  to  her  dying  day." 

Study,  Nov.  8th,  1880. 

Glorious  election  news,  nicht  wahrf  All  looks  well  for  Garfield. 
To-day  I  am  going  to  ride  out  in  the  country  with  our  Home 
Missionary,  James  Phillips,  to  be  gone  till  Friday.  There  is  a 
great  deal  of  heathenism  out  there. 

Extracts  are  given  from  Mr.  Phillips'  account  of  this  trip 

sent  to  Edward's  mother. 

Overlook,  Duchess  County,  May  nth,  1894. 
One  morning,  about  eight  o'clock,  by  appointment,  myself  with 
Dolly  and  Buggy  were  standing  at  the  curb  of  the  Congregational 
Church  when  your  son  came  smilingly  down  the  walk  and  was 
soon  by  my  side  in  the  buggy.  The  horse  seemed  to  understand 
that  there  was  something  up,  and  flew  down  Mill  Street,  and  away 
into  the  country,  he  all  the  time  on  the  lookout.  We  went  on,  on, 
and  up,  up,  up  West  Hook  Mountain,  leaving  an  appointment  for 
that  night  at  the  school  house.  It  was  now  afternoon,  and  we  had 
tasted  nothing  all  day.  I  knocked  at  the  little  hut  of  a  friend, 
where  they  got  us  a  cup  of -tea,  with  bread  and  butter,  pot-cheese, 
and  preserves,  but  would  take  nothing  for  it, — for  Jesus'  sake, 
they  said.  Afterwards,  your  son  was  lost  in  the  grand  view. 
'Twas  a  beautiful  large  moon,  and  he  preferred  to  walk  down  the 
mountain,  running  and  leaping  in  front  of  my  buggy.  At  last  we 
got  to  the  school  house,  a  dim  candle  light,  but  quite  a  full  house 
at  so  short  notice.  I  opened  the  meeting,  introducing  him.  It 
was  here  that  a  man  told  him  he  liked  to  hear  him  talk,  but  that 
I  was  like  a  cow  giving  a  good  pailful  of  milk  and  then  putting 
her  foot  into  it.  Dear  Brother  Lawrence,  how  thou  didst  laugh 
over  that  saying,  for  that  man  was  an  imbiber,  and  I  always  aim 
to  hit  such  I 


200    REMIXISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


After  the  meeting,  we  went  through  field  and  wood  down  into 
a  deep  hollow  to  an  old  Dutch  house.  Our  bed-room  was  upstairs 
and  it  was  freezing.  "Shall  we  call  for  more  clothes?"  "No," 
said  your  son,  "let  me  try  it."  And  in  he  got.  Breakfast  the  next 
morning,  prayer  and  talk,  and  then  up  Horton  ^Mountain,  a  steep, 
winding  cow  path  with  huts  all  the  way,  Mr.  Lawrence  walking  up, 
up,  enjoying  the  sight.  I  had  to  wait,  for  he  would  not  come  on, 
and  when  at  last  we  reached  the  top,  he  stood  on  a  high  rock, 
looking  off  into  Connecticut.  I  thought  I  should  be  obliged  to 
leave  him  there.    .  . 

We  visited  among  the  old  and  the  young,  the  rich  and  the  poor.  ■ 
He  saw  noble  Christian  men  and  women,  others  again  aflfected 
with  the  disease  of  infidelity.     "What   shall   I  do   with  them?" 
"Treat  them  kindh',  and  do  not  attempt  to  argue  with  them."   T  he 
people  he  met  still  speak  of  him  with  loving  remembrance. 

After  his  return  from  seeing  the  ends  of  the  earth,  I  said  to 
him,  "What  think  you  of  my  work  in  Dutchess  County?"  "I  have 
seen  no  work  in  my  travels  of  greater  importance.  Keep  a  good 
heart."    His  letters  always  revived  and  comforted  me. 

People  still  ask  me  about  him.  Some,  forgetting  his  name, 
inquire  for  that  fresh,  cheerful,  young  man,  who  took  for  his  text, 
"As  the  Father  hath  loved  me,  so  have  I  loved  you."  I  have  had 
many  out  with  me  for  the  last  twenty-five  j'ears,  but  not  one  of 
them  made  the  impression  that  Mr.  Lawrence  did. 

The  following  letter  to  the  Poughkeepsie  Eagle  will  ex- 
plain the  work  of  James  Phillips  as  it  was  at  the  time  of  the 
trip. 

Dear  Sir: — 

Will  you  kindly  allow  me  to  draw  attention  through 
your  columns  to  the  concert  to  be  given  next  Tuesday  in  aid  of 
mission  work  in  Dutchess  Co.  ? 

Personal  inspection  of  some  parts  of  the  county  has  shown  me 
their  need  of  whatever  civilizing  and  Christianizing  influence  we 
can  exert.  The  half  could  not  be  told  as  to  the  destitution  and 
depravity  of  certain  sections.  From  Poughkeepsie  the  law 
stretches  out  its  iron  hand,  though  often  ineffectually,  to  restrain 
and  punish. — From  the  same  place  the  Gospel  should  extend  its 
gentle  hand  to  relieve  and  transform.  At  a  cost  to  our  county 
of  less  than  one-half  of  what  we  pay  each  of  our  policemen  for 
patrolling  the  streets,  i\Ir.  Phillips  gives  himself  to  the  temporal, 
mental,  moral  and  spiritual  necessities  of  the  mountainous  dis- 
tricts with  a  sincerity  and  devotion  which  I  have  not  seen  surpassed. 

The  privilege  of  raising  the  pittance  paid  as  his  salary  belongs 
to  the  churches,  and  the  proposed  concert  will  not  interfere  with 
it.  But  learning  something  of  the  needs  of  the  sections  in  which 
Mr.  Phillips  labors,  a  number  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  have  kindly 
offered  to  give  a  musical  entertainment,  the  proceeds  of  which 
shall  be  devoted  to  the  benefit  of  general  mission-work  in  this 
county,  under  the  supervision  of  the  Committtee  already  having 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


20I 


this  matter  in  charge.  The  concert  therefore  commends  itself 
to  the  patronage  of  all  on  account  of  its  object,  and  also  promises 
to  such  as  attend  it  a  rich  musical  treat. 

Respectfully  yours, 

Edward  A.  Lawrence,  Jr. 

The  public  meetings  of  Vassar  Institute  had  been  held  in 
the  rooms  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  But  the  committee,  of 
which  Edward  was  one,  made  an  announcement  that  this 
year  they  were  to  be  held  in  the  Congregational  church, 
commencing  November  ist.  Edward's  father  greatly  en- 
joyed these  meetings,  and  sometimes  took  part  in  the  dis- 
cussions, the  range  of  which  was  very  wide.  A  Study  of 
George  Eliot,  and  The  Theistic  Significance  of  Evolution  being 
among  them.  Is  the  Grozvth  of  Science  Favorable  to  the 
Imagination?  was  a  debate  in  which  Edward  was  one  of  the 
parties.  Luther,  Pro  and  Con,  was  another  debate  in  which 
Father  Nilan  was  the  contestant  against  Mr.  Wilkinson,  a 
lawyer. 

For  the  coming  winter,  Edward  had  secured  a  home  on 
Carroll  St.,  opposite  to  what  was  called  the  "old  English 
burying  ground,"  connected  with  Christ  Church.  Early 
in  November,  he  writes: — "I  shall  sleep  in  the  house  next 
Tuesday  night,  and  be  ready  to  greet  you  there  on  Wed- 
nesday morning.  Will  have  a  beef  steak  ready  for  Agnes  to 
cook.  If  you  will  send  me  a  list  of  groceries,  I  will  have 
them  on  hand.    I  shall  have  a  good  supply  of  apples.'' 

In  this  house  they  soon  became  acquainted  with  their 
Quaker  friends, — the  Dickinsons,  whose  home  was  not  far 
from  them. 

In  the  course  of  the  winter,  during  Edward's  absence  for 
a  few  days,  his  father  and  mother  were  taken  ill,  his  father 
seriously  so.  Dr.  Cate,  whose  house  was  at  that  time  Ed- 
ward's summer  home,  was  most  faithful  in  his  attendance. 
Mrs.  Bourne,  calling  in  on  her  way  from  church,  and  find- 
ing that  Agnes  was  suf¥ering  from  pneumonia,  took  ofif  her 
wraps  that  she  might  remain  and  care  for  us  till  other  ar- 
rangements could  be  made. 


202    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Mr.  and  Mrs.  Donald,  their  Scotch  parishioners  and 
friends,  Hved  close  by  and  proved  themselves  neighbors  in- 
deed, w^atching  with  the  father,  and  in  every  way  bringing 
comfort  and  cheer.  Flowers  and  fruit  were  sent  in  abund- 
ance from  all  quarters,  and  when  the  invalids  were  able  to 
ride,  friends  called  for  them  in  their  carriages. 

Further  acquaintance  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Donald  in- 
creased our  attachment  to  them.  Their  eldest-born  was  the 
first  child  Edward  baptized  in  Poughkeepsie,  Willie  Alex- 
ander Donald,  in  whom  he  took  a  special  interest,  which  the 
boy  fully  appreciated.  Edward  always  found  Mr.  Donald  a 
trustworthy  and  faithful  friend,  and  a  wise  helper  in  all 
church  matters.  How  Mr.  Donald  felt  towards  his  pastor, 
is  seen  by  the  following  words  written  ten  years  after  Ed- 
ard  left  Poughkeepsie: — 

The  passing  away  of  your  dear  son  has  given  us  very  sore 
hearts.  I  am  very,  very  sad  over  the  thought  that  I  never  told 
him  how  much  I  owed  him. 

If  I  write  that  Mr.  Lawrence  made  me  a  better  and  more  use- 
ful man,  it  might  seem  like  self-praise,  but  I  can  say  that  he 
helped  to  make  me  a  happier  man.  I  never  met  any  one  who 
exerted  such  an  influence  for  good  over  me,  and  his  quiet,  happy 
way,  together  with  his  consistent  life,  gave  me  a  view  of  human 
nature  I  had  never  seen  before.  I  shall  always  gratefully  remember 
him  and  thank  God  that  my  lot  was  thrown  where  he  was  to  cross 
it.  And  we  pray  that  we  may  put  into  practice  those  precepts  so 
beautifully  exemplified  in  his  every-day  life. 

As  it  was  not  long  before  Mr.  Donald  followed  him  to  the 
better  land,  Edward  without  doubt  welcomed  him  there. 

The  many  friends  of  Mr.  Donald  will  be  interested  in  the 
just  tribute  to  his  worth  by  Rev.  Herman  Hopkins,  the 
present  beloved  pastor  of  the  church : — 

Many  a  minister  has  felt  the  loss  occasioned  by  the  death  of 
worthy  leaders  in  his  church,  but  it  is  a  rarer  thing  to  be  im- 
poverished by  the  death  of  those  whom  one  has  never  known. 
Mr.  Donald  passed  to  the  higher  life  the  year  before  I  came  to  the 
church  which  he  loved.  Yet  so  unbroken  was  the  affectionate 
testimony  to  his  worth,  so  widespread  and  deep  the  sorrow  that 
he  had  gone,  that  I  felt,  as  never  before,  the  loss  of  help  and 
sympathy,  which  I  had  indeed  never  received. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  203 


John  Donald  stood  upon  the  heights,  whether  as  husband,  father, 
citizen,  business  man  or  churchman.  To  many  he  was  an  ideal 
Christian  gentleman.  He  served  successfully  as  deacon  and  Bible 
school  superintendent.  He  was  strong  but  gentle;  courteous  but 
true.  By  his  life  he  testified  more  frequently  to  the  worth  of 
Christianity,  than  some  men  do  by  their  lips.  In  a  church  greatly 
favored  in  its  possession  of  good  men  and  women,  he  was  held  in 
honor  and  love  by  all. 

After  the  return  of  his  family  to  Marblehead,  Edward 
writes : — 

Study,  May  9th,  1881. 
I  cannot  even  begin  to  tell  you  about  the  music  I  heard  in  New 
York.  The  choruses  of  the  Messiah  suggested  the  multitudinous 
praises  of  the  redeemed  which  we  shall  sometime  enjoy.  Beethoven's 
Symphony  1  never  heard  better  given ;  Whitney  was  superb,  fill- 
ing the  whole  building.  .  .  But  when  I  came  home  and  did 
not  find  any  one  waiting  for  me  of  my  own  family,  I  felt  quite 
a  touch  of  homesickness.  Ah,  we  have  had  a  good  winter.  Home 
life  is  the  best.  .  .  The  last  Independent  has  a  letter  from  a 
man  you  have  converted  on  the  tobacco  question.  .  .  Saturday 
morning,  I  took  my  new  room  at  the  Gates',  which  they  have 
made  very  comfortable.  I  send  loads  of  love, — that  is,  all  I  can 
get  in  without  another  stamp.  Have  you  had  the  Revised  Version 
yet?  I  am  very  much  pleased  with  it.  You  will  find  it  interesting 
to  take  the  Testament  you  marked  from  mine  and  compare  the 
two. 

Study,  May  20th,  188 1. 

My  Dear,  Darling  Mother: — 

What  a  lovely  present  came  this 
morning!  I  had  so  innocently  told  you  what  I  wanted,  without  the 
slightest  suspicion  of  your  designs.  They  are  so  beautiful  and 
rich,  and  they  will  wear  so  well.  And  it  is  your  wedding  anni- 
versary. The  charming  day  at  East  Windsor  Hill  always  comes 
back  to  me.  If  it  had  not  been  for  your  marriage,  I  should  not 
have  received  these  sleeve-buttons.  Did  Mr.  Van  Keuren  make 
them? 

Everything  is  delightful  at  the  Cates',  so  convenient  and  pleasant. 
I  hope  to  spend  a  Sunday  with  you,  and  shall  be  glad  to  take  hold 
of  the  book  again  while  I  am  at  home,  (the  folio  in  which  I  was 
pasting  old  letters  for  him). 

Bellevue,  July  4th,  1881.  « 
What  dreadful  things  have  happened  since  I  left  home!  And 
now  the  President's  life  hangs  by  a  thread.    If  prayers   will  save 
Garfield,  he  will  live.    I  fear  the  worst,  and  what  is  to  come  after- 
wards.   God  alone  knows,  and  he  reigns.    That  is  our  only  hope. 

Bellevue,  July  14th. 

My  Dear  Father  and  Mother: — 

I   am   at   work   on   my  essay  on  Pro- 
gressive Revelation.    I  have  got  Dr.  Mulford's  book  The  Republic 


204    REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


of  God,  and  I  was  so  much  struck  with  the  similarity  of  treat- 
ment to  mine,  that  in  three  minutes  I  shut  it  up  till  I  have  finished 
my  essay.  This  is  partly  accounted  for  by  the  German  sources, 
Rothe,  Hegel,  etc.  I  take  up  the  statement  that  Revelation  is 
historic,  history  being  an  organic  development  towards  a  definite 
end,  according  to  definite  ideas.  I  suppose  there  may  be  a 
history  of  thought  as  well  as  of  men,  also  of  God's  works  and 
ways,  so  the  definition  must  include  that, — the  movement  may  be 
downward  as  well  as  upward,  decay  as  well  as  growth.  The  Fall 
of  the  Roman  Empire  is  history.  In  some  ways  it  must  be  the 
organic  interaction  of  free  being.  Revelation  is  and  makes  history, 
and  is  interwoven  with  history.  The  idea  of  the  personality  of 
Revelation  is  a  most  productive  one.  I  find  help  for  myself  in  it, 
as  it  brings  God  nearer  and  nearer  into  personal  relations,  so  that 
my  religious  life  is  to  be  one  of  intercourse  with  him.  How  vivid 
all  the  cries  of  psalmists  and  prophets  when  we  think  of  them  as 
communing  with  God  himself,  rather  than  receiving  some  message 
of  command  and  prediction!  .  .  In  my  essay,  I  have  sought 
to  state  and  develop  what  I  find  to  be  the  underlying  principles 
of  my  own  faith,  and  what  I  believe  to  be  the  lines  on  which  the 
church  must  and  will  do  its  work.  The  mere  statement  has 
brought  relief  and  gladness  to  my  own  mind,  and  each  step  has 
opened  a  new  prospect.  Religion  seems  more  vital,  and  God  nearer. 
And  the  authority  of  the  Scriptures  is  not  necessarily  impugned 
by  relegating  it  to  the  position  of  a  record  of  Revelation.  You  may 
not  understand  my  reference  to  the  naturalistic  phase.  That  is 
rightly  an  appellation  of  every  system  which  makes  the  natural  or 
mechanical  order  so  prominent  as  to  exclude  or  overlook  the 
direct  personal  Divine  agency.  But  in  my  view,  Revelation  is 
universal  and  above  all  things  personal,  involving  the  direct  and 
personal  divine  action  in  every  case  as  the  basis  of  all  religion 
whatever.    The  centre  of  action  is  in  the  personal  Word. 

Bellevue,  July,  1881. 
We  had  quite  an  adventure  on  the  Bristol.  At  midnight  I  was 
awaked  by  the  stopping  of  the  boat,  and  found  that  the  rudder 
was  broken.  They  threw  up  rockets,  and  the  Newport,  which 
was  near  by,  turned  towards  us.  Our  captain  shouted,  "Our 
rudder  is  broken, — will  you  tow  us  into  New  London?"  "Aye, 
aye,  sir."  After  about  an  hour,  we  were  of?  for  New  London. 
When  we  reached  it,  the  waiter  went  around  knocking  at  the 
state  rooms,  "This  boat's  broke  down."  Much  grumbling  and 
some  profanity  ensued.  When  the  boats  came  alongside,  our 
company  filed  along  up  the  length  of  the  Bristol,  then  down  the 
whole  length  of  the  Ncivport,  a  strange  procession,  as  if  a  funeral. 
At  Boston  I  had  a  charming  visit  at  the  Gibbens's. 

Bellevue,  July  24th. 
Anna's  call  to  teach  music  at  Lake  Erie  Seminary  is  just  what 
I  have   wanted  for  her,   and  will  be   worth   far  more   than  any 
lessons  she  can  take.    Why  cannot  she    run  up  here  on  her  way 
in  September,  and  pass  a  day  or  two? 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


205 


Elk  Lake,  alias  Mud  Pond  Aug.  loth  1881. 

By  degrees  we  have  been  throwing  off  the  world  and  its  crowds. 

.  .  Landing  at  Schroon  Lake  village,  we  left  our  luggage  to  be 
forwarded  and  walked  on  nine  miles  to  Root's  hotel.  We  deigned 
not  a  glance  at  the  numerous  hotels  of  the  village,  with  their 
gregarious  humanity,  but  turning  our  back  on  Culture  and 
Aesthetics,  we  strode  forward  toward  hermit  peaks  and  the  gre- 
garious mosquito.  It  is  always  a  wonderful  thing  to  me  to  walk 
and  walk  day  after  day,  approaching  distant  mountains,  which  seem 
to  beckon  far  off  so  sweetly,  in  their  faint  blue,  and  then  frown  so 
threateningly  in  their  scarred,  gigantic  faces  as  you  come  near,  up, 
up,  mile  after  mile,  and  they  congregate  more  and  more  about 
you.  The  air  grows  clear  and  cool,  and  the  shadows  deepen,  and 
the  lowlands  stretch  away  far  beneath.  After  walking  about  three 
hours  and  a  half,  we  reached  Root's  at  eight  o'clock,  eager  for 
supper  and  then  for  sleep.  Oh,  it  is  good  to  be  here  again,  right 
in  the  heart  of  the  mountains!    .  . 

Saturday,  Aug.  13th. 

Five  P.  M.  In  camp  on  Lake  Colden  and  the  Opalescent  River, 
the  source  of  the  Hudson,  at  foot  of  Mt.  Marcy  and  Mclntyre.  For 
six  years,  ever  since  we  were  here  in  1875  on  our  first  trip,  I  have 
longed  to  be  back  in  this  very  spot,  and  here  at  last  we  are,  and 
to  stay  over  Sunday. 

Colden  lies  like  a  pearl  in  the  rocky  hand  of  the  mountains. 
For  miles  around  are  unknown  and  unnamed  peaks  on  every  side. 
We  have  just  discovered  two  fine  camps  unoccupied,  with  enough 
wood  cut  to  last  over  Sunday.  Fyr  three  successive  days  we  have 
ascended  three  different  mountains,  and  had  a  clear  view  from 
each  of  them. 

And  here  we  lie  on  these  green  boughs,  under  the  bark  roof  and 
see  the  rain  fall  as  gently  as  snow  and  hear  the  wind  sigh  in  the 
pines  and  the  woodpeckers  rap  on  their  bark.  The  smoke  of  the 
fire  creeps  up  the  hill,  the  trees  creak,  Mclntyre  and  Colden  are 
wrapped  in  their  cloudy  robes,  and  we  are  at  rest  far  away  from 
all  the  world.    It  is  very  peaceful  and  grand. 

Monday  morning  we  left  the  camp  with  regret,  although  it  had 
drizzled  most  of  Sunday.  Over  the  lake  in  a  boat,  up  the  steep 
trail  to  some  fine  falls,  then  over  precipices  to  the  Avalanche  trail, 
bringing  us  at  last  to  Lake  Avalanche,  the  most  awful,  as  Colden's 
is  the  grandest  sheet  of  water.  Sheer  rise  the  rocks,  then  run  in 
long  bare  slides  to  the  top  of  Colden,  which  is  cut  by  an  enormous 
trap  dyke.  After  leaving  the  Avalanche,  reminding  me  of  Wast- 
water  in  England,  we  spent  the  day  in  looking  for  a  lake  and 
finding  a  mountain. 

With  our  guide,  Blin,  we  plunged  into  the  thickest  of  the  woods. 
Up,  up  we  went,  till  at  last  we  decided  to  go  to  the  top  of  Mt. 
Colden.  Eveything  was  wet  from  the  recent  rains,  and  we  were 
soaked.  Through  the  mouldy  woods,  filled  with  rotting  trunks 
and  roots  of  fallen  trees,  where  the  feet  slip  and  plunge  in  deep 
holes,  up  dripping,  mossy  patches,  almost  perpendicular,  where 
we  pull  ourselves  up  by  the  tough  stems,  picking  berries  as  we  go, 


2o6   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


around  rocky  ledges,  through  low,  tangled  scrub  spruce,  from  one 
peak,  seeming  the  top,  to  another  half  an  hour  distant.  At  last 
we  are  on  the  summit.  O  grandeur!  Up  in  the  clouds  which  fly- 
past, opening  frequently  to  show  the  wild  peaks  about  us  on  one 
side,  Mclntyre's  long,  bare,  many-peaked  ridges  stretching  along 
on  the  other,  Colden  and  Avalanche  water  far  beneath.  This  was 
the  widest,  grandest  view  of  all.  The  peaks  crowded  on  us,  above 
us,  yet  we  were  in  the  midst,  and  the  lakes  were  two  thousand 
feet  below.  But  I  cannot  give  you  any  idea  of  it.  Mclntyre  sur- 
passes the  other  mountains  in  its  superb  view,  combining  the 
grandeur  of  Marcy  with  the  beauties  of  Whiteface.  Out  of  the 
glaciers  I  think  I  never  saw  a  finer  view.  There  were  many 
clouds,  but  they  were  high  and  bright,  and  their  shadows  alter- 
nating with  the  light  added  to  the  effect.  In  almost  every  direc- 
tion we  saw  to  a  great  distance.  Even  Mt.  Washington,  a 
hundred  miles  away,  was  plainly  visible,  and  the  heights  of  Marcy. 
The  broad  stretch  of  Chaniplain  and  Grand  Island,  St.  Lawrence 
sweeping  along  the  whole  of  the  Adirondack  region.  It  was  un- 
speakably grand,  the  glorj'  of  the  kingdom  of  the  world. 

All  the  Saranac  region  lay  before  us ;  the  Raquette  river  shone 
like  a  thread  along  its  course.    I  shall  never  forget  it. 

We  have  been  sleeping  in  the  lathed,  unplastered  lodge,  lifting 
doors  into  their  places,  hanging  clothes  on  nails  stuck  up  be- 
tween the  lathes.  We  write  on  the  log  porch  of  the  old  cottage 
close  to  the  camp-fire  in  the  woods,  with  people  chatting  and  play- 
ing cards  close  to  us.    Good-bye  and  God  bless  you  all ! 

Lake  House,  Long  Lake  Village,  Aug.  21st,  i88r. 
We  found  the  A'anuie  O.  in  fine  condition,  and  at  once  brought 
her  here.  She  is  as  lovely  as  ever  and  dearer,  the  only  one  of  her 
ilk  on  the  lake.  After  the  hard  trudging,  it  is  delightful  to  stretch 
out  in  the  boat,  and  pull  along  with  ease.  After  striding  over  the 
rugged  grandeur  of  the  peaks,  it  is  delightful  to  glide  about  among 
these  peaceful  lakes.  .  .  The  air  was  clear  as  crystal  and  the 
lines  of  the  hills  along  the  lake  cut  the  sunset-tinged  heaven.  The 
wind  died  out  and  in  the  fading  light  our  white  boat  skimmed 
over  the  surface  like  a  swan.  We  ran  past  wooded  islands  with 
rocky  shores  and  rested  our  boat  on  a  shelf  of  rocks  near  which 
we  took  our  plunge  and  swim.  The  contrast  with  the  gigantic 
mountain  forms  adds  an  imaginative  beauty  to  every  lake-scene, 
which  only  the  mind  with  its  memories  and  fancies  could  supply. 
And  so  we  floate3  up  to  the  Lake  House,  through  the  woods,  a 
long  eight  miles  march  to  Keene.  At  the  old  Beede  house,  I 
stepped  in  and  there,  sure  enough,  sat  Prof,  and  Mrs.  James,  and 
]Miss  Mary  Gibbens.  They  greeted  us  cordially  and  urged  us  to 
come  in  and  take  some  hot  soup.  I  was  glad  to  see  something  of 
Prof.  James.  In  the  evening,  I  had  a  good  walk  with  Mrs.  James, 
which  seemed  like  the  old  German  days.  She  is  a  noble  wife  and 
mother! 


From  a  letter  from  Mrs.  James  since  Edward  left  us: — 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  207 

"I  have  been  thinking  of  the  far-off  days  at  Dresden, 
when  Vve  first  knew  him,  a  young  man  so  different  from  the 
aimless  ones  one  ordinarily  met.  How  gladly  would  most 
of  us  die  for  such  faith  as  his!" 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


CONTINUED  LABORS  AT  POUGHKEEPSIE. 

Is  toil  but  a  treadmill?   Think  not  of  the  grind, 
But  think  of  the  grist,  what  is  done  and  to  do. 
The  world  growing  better,  more  like  to  God's  mind, 
By  long,  faithful  labor  of  helpers  like  you. 

— James  Buckham. 

Study,  Sept.  19th. 

The  young  music  teacher  arrived  on  time  and  was  met  by 
her  brother  and  Mrs.  McGraw.  She  is  in  clover,  visiting  among 
friends.  Yesterday  she  sang  a  solo  both  morning  and  evening, 
very  beautifully.    I  am  delighted  with  her  voice. 

Please  tell  Miss  McKown  that  I  believe  God  seeks  to  reveal 
himself  to  every  soul,  and  that  such  revealing  action  on  his  part 
must  be  the  basis  of  every  revealing  action  on  our  part. 

I  have  just  concluded  an  arrangement  for  the  house  for  the 
winter  on  Montgomery  Street.  It  is  well  furnished  throughout, 
fine  range,  whole  house  well  heated. 

Study,  Sept.  26th,  1881. 
Our  church  was  heavily  draped  yesterday.    In  the  evening  I 
preached  on  Garfield  to  a  full  house. 

On  November  24th,  1881,  Edward  preached  the  Union 
Thanksgiving  sermon,  from  the  text,  "Righteousness  ex- 
aUeth  a  nation."  The  impression  of  the  sermon  upon  his 
hearers  may  be  inferred  from  the  following  Hnes: — 

,         Poughkeepsie,  Dec.  8.  1881. 

Rev.  E.  A.  Lawrence,  Jr. 
Dear  Sir: 

We,  the  undersigned,  including  members  of  both  politi- 
cal parties,  feeling  profoundly  conscious  of  the  dangers  over- 
shadowing the  future  of  our  country  from  the  corruption  infest- 
ing our  political  life,  especially  in  its  relation  to  purity  of  the  bal- 
lot, and  believing  that  the  earnest  words  in  your  Thanksgiving 
sermon  would  be  eminently  helpful  in  arousing  attention  to  the 
danger,  and  in  stimulating  a  healthier  public  sentiment,  ask  your 
permission  to  give  it  publication  in  the  form  best  adapted  to  the 
end  desired. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


This  was  signed  by  eight  prominent  men,  not  only  of 
both  parties,  but  of  the  different  churches  of  the  city. 

The  request  was  wilHngly  compHed  with,  and  the  printed 
sermon — National  Righteousness,  was  circulated  freely  in  the 
city  and  sent  abroad  in  various  directions. 

Of  this  sermon  a  friend  writes, — "I  wish  that  that  truly 
masterly  and  eloquent  sermon  could  be  sounded  out  in  our 
capital,  that  all  there  might  listen  to  its  burning  words  of 
truth."  Another  friend  says,  "I  cannot  express  my  admira- 
tion of  the  sermon,  of  its  bold  style,  its  independent  utter- 
ance of  truth,  it  wise  suggestions,  and  of  its  inspiration  for 
the  right.  Please  send  me  for  circulation  as  many  copies  as 
you  can  for  the  sum  enclosed." 

There  were  appreciating  letters  from  Washington  Glad- 
den, Phillips  Brooks,  and  many  others. 

In  a  letter  to  his  mother,  Mrs.  Garfield,  acknowledging 
Mr.  Lawrence's  tribute  to  her  lamented  husband,  adds: — 
"If  General  Garfield  has,  in  the  sacrifice  he  was  called  to 
make,  given  to  the  men  of  this  generation  a  new  impulse  to 
rebuke  the  great  wrong  which  has  grown  to  such  giant  pro- 
portions, and  against  which  his  whole  soul  rose  up,  then 
has  his  death  not  been  in  vain,  though  our  hearts  do  break.'' 
James  Phillips,  the  Dutchess  County  missionary,  writes 
characteristically, — "Your  National  Righteousness  sermon 
is  sharp,  tart,  unceremonious,  sounding  like  the  crack  of 
rifles  and  coming  from  every  point  of  the  compass,  striking 
nea^rly  every  one.  It  is  a  reckless  discharge  of  chain  shot, 
that  crushes  down  everything  in  its  course,  dividing  asun- 
der, and  piercing  through  joints  and  marrow." 

A  letter   from   Benson   Lossing,  of  the  Ridge,  Dovers 
Plains,  is  also  given. 

Dear  Mr.  Lawrence: — 

Mrs.  Lossing  read  the  discourse  to  the 
family  on  the  evening  when  it  was  received,  and  we  were  de- 
lighted and  profoundly  impressed  by  it:  delighted  by  the  force  and 
beauty  of  its  composition  as  a  work  of  literary  art,  and  impressed 


2IO   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


with  the  gravity  and  infinite  importance  of  its  suggestions  and 
startling  truths.  I  cannot  refrain  from  saying,  that  in  every  aspect, 
it  is  the  best  sermon  I  ever  heard  or  read,  as,  in  its  chief  topic,  the 
highest  earthly  interests  of  the  human  race  are  concerned.  Oh  that 
it  might  be  impressed  v/ith  all  its  solemn  truths,  warnings  and 
si'ggestions  upon  the  hearts  and  minds  of  every  citizen  of  our  be- 
loved Republic ! 

I  am  amazed  and  made  ashamed  by  the  statistical  revelations 
you  have  made  of  the  wickedness,  the  corruption,  and  the  moral 
weakness  of  the  office-seekers  and  the  voters  in  the  12th  Con- 
gressional District.  No  thoughtful  man  can  read  your  statements 
without  being  thoroughly  aroused  to  a  full  consciousness  that  he 
is  reposing  on  the  summit  of  an  already  rumbling  volcano.  There 
is  one  consoling  thought — God  still  rules. 

Allow  me  as  an  American  citizen  to  thank  you  for  this  admir- 
able discourse. 

Very  sincerely, 

Your  friend, 
Benson  J.  Lossing. 

Rev.  E.  A.  Lawrence,  Jr., 

Poughkeepsie, 

N.  Y. 

Desiring  to  make  the  prayer-meeting  an  efficient  influ- 
ence, Edward  sometimes  published  on  a  card  for  general 
distribution  the  subjects  to  be  discussed  for  months  in 
advance. 

He  frequently  gave  a  series  of  talks  on  the  same  general 
subject.  This  year,  interspersed  among  various  other 
topics,  were  a  number  on  the  great  apostle. 

Peter  called. 

Peter  sinking. 

Peter  confessing, 

Peter  protesting  and  denying. 

Peter  forgiven  and  instructed. 

Peter  preaching. 

Peter  healing. 

In  February,  Edward's  father  and  mother  left  Pough- 
keepsie to  spend  a  few  weeks  at  Heald's  Hygeian  Home. 
Edward  writes : 

"Now  you  are  being  packed  and  showered  and  rubbed 
and  dieted  to  your  heart's  content,  and  I  trust  it  will  do  you 
much  good.   I  miss  you  and  love  you,  and  think  of  all 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR'.  211 


your  goodness.  They  are  preparing  for  the  mission  fair  to- 
morrow. I  am  deUghted  to  see  the  mission  idea  get  hold  of 
so  many." 

Study,  April  loth,  1882. 
Yesterdaj'  was  the  bright,  glad  day  of  the  Christian  year.  The 
season,  the  suggestions,  everything  belong  to  a  new  and  better 
world.  In  the  afternoon,  I  went  by  appointment  to  the  Old  Men's 
Home  to  hold  an  Easter  service.  The  few  who  had  come  in 
seemed  sorry  that  no  more  were  present,  not  knowing  how  little 
I  cared  for  that.  I  talked  to  the  old  men  with  delight  and  real 
Easter  gladness. 

After  your  return  from  Wilmington,  a  little  time  will  remain  for 
me  to  care  for  your  comfort,  and  to  show  my  filial  love.  Take  this, 
please,  dear  mother,  for  your  birthday  letter.  We  will  celebrate 
the  day  when  you  come  home.  I  want  your  birthdays  and  all  the 
seasons  between  to  be  full  of  gladness.  I  am  sure  you  will  enjoy 
your  Germantown  visit  with  the  Barretts.  You  must  talk  and  listen 
for  me  and  tell  me  all  about  it. 

In  April,  1882,  the  corner  stone  of  Vassar  Institute  was 
laid,  on  which  occasion  Edward  delivered  the  address,  of 
which  a  few  of  the  closing  sentences  are  given. 

In  accepting  such  a  building  we  shall  assume  a  serious  responsi- 
bility. It  will  not,  as  I  understand,  be  committed  into  our  hands 
in  any  narrow,  exclusive  sense,  but  as  a  trust  to  be  held  by  us  in 
the  interests  of  the  whole  community.  Let  the  edifice  be  never 
so  wisely  erected,  never  so  completely  equipped,  never  so  much 
admired,  it  will  be  but  like  an  empty  shell  found  lying  on  the  bar- 
ren shore,  the  sport  of  wind  and  wave,  if  you  do  not  bring  all  the 
Graces,  and  the  Muses  and  the  Sciences  to  inhabit  it,  if  you  do 
not  make  it  an  attracting  centre,  and  an  outflowing  source  of  the 
best  talent  and  culture  of  this  city.  Such  an  institution  as  this  is 
meant  to  foster,  nay,  it  should  mould  the  sentiments,  shape  the 
thoughts  and  refine  the  tastes  of  society  at  large,  lending  dignity 
and  richness  to  a  life  which  is  already  busy  and  earnest. 

But  the  growth  of  the  past  is  pledge  for  the  future.  May  this 
building  rise  to  a  fit  and  fair  completion.  May  the  Institute  of 
which  it  shall  be  the  shelter  live  long,  live  usefully,  live  nobly,  the 
pride  of  many  generations,  and,  to  its  founder,  a  lasting  crown  of 
praise. 

His  warm  friend,  Mrs.  Cate,  writes  his  mother, — "Your 
son's  address  at  the  opening  of  Vassar  Institute  was  very 
fine.  The  Literary  Qub  under  his  management  is  delight- 
ful, and  he  always  speaks  to  the  point.   I  wish  you  could 


212    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


see  him  preside.  But  when  I  get  on  this  subject  I  do  not 
find  enough  adjectives  of  admiration  in  the  dictionary. 

July  nth. 

It  seemed,  as  I  told  them,  like  Pharaoh's  calling  for  brick  with- 
out straw,  to  appoint  the  floral  service  for  Sunday,  as  the  season 
is  so  late  and  no  roses  are  out.  But  we  had  faith  and  went  ahead, 
and  after  all.  it  was  very  beautiful  with  snow-balls  and  peonies  and 
daisies  and  pansies. 

I  have  had  a  good  week  for  American  History.  Am  right  in  the 
midst  of  the  slavery  struggle.  What  a  palsy  seized  the  nation !  I 
am  reading  the  German  Political  tlistory  of  the  United  States  by 
Van  Hoist. 

July  23rd. 

Saturday  afternoon,  I  took  a  long  walk  alone  over  fields,  hills, 
rocks  and  a  mountain,  to  Black  Pond,  where  I  fished — for  water 
lilies,  and  got  some  for  the  church. 

I  am  getting  deeper  into  history,  always  looking  for  the  nation- 
ality of  it,  and  wondering  at  the  ways  in  which  this  has  been 
developed.  If  my  letters  from  the  Adirondacks  are  shorter  this 
year  than  usual,  you  may  know  that  I  am  working  at  photographs. 

In  Camp,  U.  Ausable  Pond,  Aug.  13th,  1882. 

Such  a  perfect  day !  Wind  cool  from  the  N.  E.  Heavens  clear, 
with  clouds  flying  over,  light  falling  with  greenish  glitter  on 
the  forests  that  lie  on  the  steep  slope  of  the  opposite  hills.  Greens 
and  blues  and  white  in  all  shades  on  land  and  lake  and  sky.  While 
the  guide,  Tom  Parker,  rakes  up  about  the  camp  we  sit  on  the 
boughs,  read  Revelation  in  Greek,  and  I  write. 

The  next  day  as  the  woods  were  very  wet,  I  used  it  for  taking 
views.  De  Forest  and  Speare  came  over  and  I  took  them  with 
Mr.  Hall.  Pres.  Porter  has  just  come  to  a  camp  opposite.  They 
row  across  and  bring  him  back.   And  I  think  I  have  a  good  view. 

Yesterday  we  made  the  grand  trip  up  the  Gothics.  They  are 
among  the  noblest  sights  from  the  pond,  rising  nearly  5,000  feet 
steep  and  straight,  with  their  rocky  sides  seeming  almost  unap- 
proachable. Very  few  try  them.  But  we  started  bright  and  early, 
at  7.30,  De  Forest  being  with  us.  Our  guide  took  us  down  to  the 
other  side  of  the  Lower  Pond.  There  was  careful  deliberation 
as  to  the  course,  for  our  guide  had  never  made  the  ascent.  Finally 
we  were  at  the  base.  The  straight  slides  and  precipitous  ledges 
fronted  us.  Sometimes  we  had  to  tOrn  back.  But  on  the  whole 
we  got  on  well,  pulling  ourselves  up  the  steepest  places  by  trees 
and  bushes  and  grasses.  Hardest  was  the  scramble  through  the 
scrub  balsams.  But  at  last  we  were  on  the  top,  and  the  view  was 
superb.  Marcy,  Haystack,  Saddleback,  Dix,  Giant,  Whiteface, 
Mclntyre  and  a  host  of  others.  How  familiar  some  of  them  seem! 
Down,  down,  straight  ahea'd  we  catch  the  lower  end  of  Ausable 
Pond  which  we  have  just  left. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  213 


Saranac  Lake  House  House,  Lower  Saranac,  Aug.  i6th,  1882. 

Sunday  afternoon  we  rowed  over  to  De  Forest's  camp,  and 
talked,  sang,  told  stories,  etc.,  and  took  D.  back  to  tea  with  us. 
Then  along  in  the  evening  the  rest  of  them  came  over  to  our  camp 
and  we  had  a  real  missionary  concert  there  up  in  the  woods,  De 
Forest  telling  us  much  about  Japan.  His  great  idea  is  the  self- 
support  of  native  work.  Speare  told  us  of  his  fight  with  the  Pope 
in  the  prison.  Late  at  night  I  rowed  part  of  the  company  home, 
and  all  said  good-bye.  But  we  had  a  wave  from  them  as  they 
started  for  Marcy.  We  were  then  on  our  way  to  a  Rocking  Stone, 
which  proved  to  be  a  rocky  stone  only,  as  it  would  not  budge. 

Tuesday  we  had  one  of  our  very  finest  days  coming  up  Bog 
River,  a  most  romantic  stream  full  of  all  delights.  Little  Tupper  is 
especially  beautiful  because  without  the  line  of  decay  which  runs 
round  so  many  lakes  here,  caused  by  flooding  its  waters.  It  has 
drizzled  to-day,  so  we  have  kept  our  headquarters  here,  instead  of 
going  on  as  we  expected.  But  we  have  rowed  much  over  the  lake 
between  the  showers  and  shifting  clouds,  clinging  to  and  floating 
along  the  hillsides,  where  all  colors  were  greens  and  grays.  Rowed 
about  two  miles  up  Bog  Stream  till  we  could  push  our  boat  no 
farther  through  the  alders.  It  seems  as  if  I  had  never  seen  such 
sights  as  some  we  have  had  to-day.  Altogether  the  trip  has  had 
its  own  character.  There  has  been  less  of  incident  and  of  work 
or  hardship,  more  quiet  and  taking  our  own  time,  more  dwelling 
with  Nature  as  a  dear  old  acquaintance.  We  sing  the  old  song* 
and  have  learned  some  new  ones.  Jonathan  reads  to  me  in  Pick- 
wick and  I  am  reading  Marquis  of  Lossie  to  him,  his  first  of 
George  McDonald. 

Forked  Lake  House,  Evening,  Aug.  24th. 
To-day  we  have  had  the  hardest  trip  of  all,  perhaps,  carrying 
boat  and  baggage  over  four  miles  besides  rowing  about  fifteen, 
and  that  when  we  had  given  up  going  because  of  the  rain.  BuJ 
a  party  came  along  for  the  same  route,  so  we  started  too.  There 
were  two  guides,  two  New  Yorkers,  and  the  wife  of  one  of  them 
being  wholly  unused  to  the  woods,  they  had  a  trunk  and  city  clothes. 
There  was  a  long  wet  carry  of  three  miles,  guides  had  forgotten 
to  take  lunch,  the  trunk  delayed  them,  they  got  wet,  discouraged, 
famished.  More  grateful  people  for  a  bit  of  bread  and  butter  I 
handed  them  from  our  lunch  I  have  not  seen.  I  doubled  the 
carries  to  get  all  the  luggage.  But  the  day  grew  delightful. 
Charming  ponds  one  after  another  we  flew  across.  I  bagged  a  view 
of  one.  The  Little  Forked  and  the  beautiful  Forked  seemed  quite 
familiar  to  us.  And  here  we  are  at  Fletcher's.  And  here  I  found 
your  letter  and  Anna's.    Thanks  for  both. 

Big  Tupper  Lake,  Moody's,  Aug.  20th,  1882. 
Just  three  years  ago  we  spent  a  Sunday  in  this  house  on  our 
way  down  the  Raquette.  It  could  not  have  been  a  more  perfect 
day  than  this.  And  a  strange  picture  is  here.  On  the  right  a 
forest  of  dead  trees,  only  trunks  and  branches  among  which  the 
destroying   waters   spread.    It   is   the    very    picture    of  death, 


214  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Studies  in  decay,  I  said  as  we  rowed  down  the  river  through  these 
stretches  of  desolation.  They  were  beautiful  seven  years  ago, 
though  the  forests  were  dying, — beautiful  in  their  decay.  But 
now  the  whole  is  hideous  and  sickly.  Back  of  this  which  almost 
looks  like  a  forest  of  masts  of  sunken  vessels,  roll  away  the  blue 
distant  mountains.  But  in  front  and  to  the  right  is  the  lake, 
rippling  in  the  breeze,  blue  under  the  sky,  glittering  under  the 
sun,  with  great  wooded,  rocky  islands  scattered  along  and  lofty 
shores  sweeping  up  from  it.   It  is  a  perfect  day  of  sweetest  rest. 

Poughkeepsie,  Study,  Sept.  20th,  1882. 
I  feel  very  happy  in  being  at  my  work  again,  and  hope  to  do  it 
more  in  love  to  God  than  ever  before.  I  have  just  begun  a  series 
of  sermons  on  the  aspects  of  Christ's  life,  taking  Jesus  as  Son, 
Friend,  Teacher,  Benefactor,  Citizen,  Judge,  Saviour.  Then  I  am 
studying  up  Phillipians,  meaning  to  expound  that  in  time.  I 
am  also  working  as  I  can  on  American  Nationality  for  the  Literary 
Club.  .  .  Everything  is  very  pleasant  at  the  Cates',  and  I  am 
feeling  very  well  and  ready  for  work.  .  .  I  find  "lots  of 
trouble"  everywhere,  but  He  has  overcome  the  world.  .  .  I 
shall  be  more  rigid  than  ever  in  taking  my  Saturday  half  holidays, 
for  I  have  much  to  do  Mondays,  and  that  is  what  saves  me  for  this 
work.  My  visit  home  was  very  delightful.  The  dear,  old  mansion 
would  be  very  precious  to  me,  if  for  no  other  reason,  from  the 
time  and  labor  you  and  father  have  spent  upon  it. 

Father  McSweeney  of  Mount  St.  Mary's  College,  whose 
published  acount  has  been  given  of  the  discussion  at  the 
Vassar  Institute  concerning  Oberammergau,  relates  the  fol- 
lowing incident  in  a  letter  to  Edward's  mother,  illustrating 
his  fairness: — 

At  one  time,  in  Poughkeepsie,  your  son  published  a  pamphlet 
which  contained  an  expression  that  appeared  to  me  erroneous.  I 
wrote  calling  attention  to  it,  but  could  not  refrain  from  praising 
the  intention  of  the  little  tract  and  wishing  it  success.  Edward 
immediately  called  on  Father  Nilan  and  requested  to  be  shown 
the  work  of  Catholic  Theology  which  I  had  quoted,  and  meeting 
myself  afterwards,  expressed  his  regret  for  having  unwittingly 
drawn  out  my  criticism,  and  declared,  what  I  never  doubted,  his 
honesty  of  purpose.  I  followed  his  journey  to  Asia  and  spoke 
with  him  afterwards  of  the  various  missions  he  had  visited.  He 
seemed  to  me  a  man  of  great  loftiness  anl  beauty  of  thought,  and 
of  very  broad  liberality,  but  I  am  confident  he  would  not  sacrifice 
truth  nor  principle.  My  dear  Mrs.  Lawrence,  Christ  is  the  Way. 
Your  son  proposed  following  him  more  literally  than  most  of 
us  feel  bound  to  do — preaching  the  Gospel  to  the  poor.  This 
was  an  immense  grace,  an  inspiration  from  God,  I  trust.  Thank 
God  that  your  son  was  called  so  high. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


215 


A  well  known  artist  of  Boston,  Elizabeth  Washburn 
Brainerd,  a  sister  of  Pres.  Washburn  of  Robert  College, 
Constantinople,  and  who  is  a  member  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  expresses  substantially  the  same  idea  as  Father 
McSweeney. 

Your  son  seemed  to  me  in  my  too  slight  acquaintance  with  him, 
to  have  one  charming  trait  that  particularly  impressed  me,  and  I 
know  from  other  sources  that  I  am  correct  in  this, — and  that  was 
the  gentleness  of  his  judgment  of  others.  He  was  too  wise  to  join 
in  the  modern  push  for  unity.  He  could  see  the  strong  ground  of 
those  who  say,  "We  cannot  yet  agree,  but  we  will  not  have  strife 
or  bitterness.  First  of  all,  let  us  honestly  try  to  understand  each 
other."  If  he  wished  to  know  what  a  Catholic  believed,  on  any 
subject,  he  did  not  go  to  his  good  Baptist  or  Methodist  brother 
to  find  out.  As  a  natural  consequence,  he  had  Catholic  priests 
among  his  dear  friends.  May  his  soul  and  all  the  souls  of  the 
faithful  departed,  by  the  mercy  of  God,  rest  in  peace. 

Study,  Oct.  9th,  1882. 

My  Dear  Father: — 

I  am  glad  of  every  year  God  spares  you  to  us. 
Yesterday  morning,  I  preached  at  Vassar,  and  enjoyed  the  service 
very  much.  I  want  to  write  a  few  sermons  for  young  men  and 
women,  one  on  True  Manhood,  and  one  on  True  Womanhood.  I 
wish  you  and  mother  would  suggest  anything  that  occurs  to  you. 

I  preached  last  Sunday  evening  on  the  kindness  of  God's  sever- 
ity, to  the  help  of  some,  I  find.  But  what  a  profound  subject, 
needing  infinite  light  to  penetrate  its  darkness ! 

One  day  last  week  I  walked  twelve  miles.  I  was  never  in  better 
health  and  feel  it  every  day  as  a  royal  possession.  My  organ  is  a 
great  delight  to  me.  And  the  Cates  are  dear,  good  friends.  Yes, 
we  all  got  up  to  see  the  comet  about  ten  days  ago. 

As  Edward's  father  was  not  well,  it  was  thought  that  a 
journey  West  and  a  residence  for  a  few  weeks  at  the  Mag- 
netic Institute  at  Hamilton,  Illinois,  might  benefit  him.  The 
mother  was  to  accompany  him  and  the  sister  also  would  be 
there.  An  arrangement,  however,  was  made  for  previously 
spending  a  few  weeks  at  Poughkeepsie,  which  proved  to  be 
their  last  visit  there  with  Edward. 

Edward  writes  the  travellers: — 

Study,  Dec.  23rd,  1882. 
A  merry  Christmas  for  you  and  father.    You  can  hardly  fail  of 
this,  among  your  friends  at  Oxford  Seminary.    I  am  glad  to  follow 


21 6         REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


you  in  all  your  journeyings,  and  was  especially  interested  in 
your  visit  at  Obcrlin. 

And  now  let  me  tell  you  of  my  new  undertaking, — to  raise  among 
our  people  $i,ooo, — ist. — to  meet  our  slight  deficit;  2nd.  To  re- 
fresco  the  ceiling  and  walls  of  the  church  and  lecture  room;  3rd. 
To  get  new  carpets  for  the  church.  I  have  already  secured  $400, 
and  hope  to  carry  it  through  quickly.  All  are  pleased  with  rais- 
ing money  in  this  way,  instead  of  by  fairs. 

Study,  Jan.  2nd,  1883. 
The  night  before  New  Year  we  had  a  Union  Watch  night  at  Dr. 
Hare's  church,  at  which  most  of  the  ministers  were  present.  We 
had  the  sacrament,  then  short  talks  and  music  till  just  before  mid- 
night when  all  joined  in  silent  prayer,  and  the  clock  knelled  out 
the  year.  Sunday  morning  and  evening  I  gave  a  septennial  retro- 
spect, going  over  the  whole  ground.  Our  benevolent  contribu- 
tions the  last  year  are  larger  than  any  of  the  preceding  years.  I 
spoke  of  stability  as  the  thing  aimed  at  in  the  last  seven  years,  and 
of  progress  as  the  main  thing  now  to  be  sought.  In  the  evening 
we  had  the  largest  congregation  of  the  year. 

When  he  found  that  his  mother  had  yielded  to  the  request 
of  the  doctors  and  patients  at  Hamikon,  and  was  reading 
to  them  chapters  of  The  Tobacco  Problem  before  it  was  pub- 
lished, he  wrote  her: — 

Study,  Jan.  9th,  1883. 
I  feel  very  much  like  scolding  you.  Away  at  a  Health-Cure,  yet 
so  full  of  tobacco.  You  think  you  can't  help  it,  but  that  is  just 
the  trouble.  If  you  dropped  one  thing,  you  would  take  up  two 
more.  I  shall  add  that  one  of  the  evils  of  tobacco  is  that  it  is 
wearing  my  mother  out.  Of  course  this  scolding  will  do  you  no 
good,  but  it  is  a  relief  to  me. 

Jan.  i6th,  1883. 

The  birthday  remembrances  have  come  in  very  sweetly  to-day, 
with  your  own  thoughtful  tokens.  Twenty-eight  were  in  my 
History  class  last  night.  I  grow  more  and  more  fascinated  with 
Church  History.  I  enclose  three  letters,  as  you  will  like  to  see  the 
appreciation  shown,  but  do  not  read  them  outside  the  family. 

Jan.  29th,  1883. 

Yesterday  was  the  third  rainy  Sunday.  I  made  an  innovation, 
announcing  a  sermon  by  Dr.  Bushnell,  and  I  think  all  were  well 
pleased. 

Feb.  6th,  1883. 

Last  night  in  the  History  class,  we  had  the  subject  of  church 
government.  Two  weeks  before  I  had  given  out  Congregational- 
ism to  Fanny  Hannah,  Presbyterianism  to  Miss  Wilkinson  and 
Episcopacy  to  Miss  Allerton.  I  put  myself  in  the  attitude  of  a 
heathen  Chinee,  and  had  each  try  to  convert  me.  There  were 
three  able  papers  read,  followed  by  a  pleasant  discussion.  Next 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  217 


week  I  shall  resume  the  subject,  after  which  we  come  upon 
Christian  doctrine. 

Last  Sunday  evening  I  preached  a  sermon  on  trntli,  meant  to 
reach  the  delicate  deceits  of  daily  life,  and  which,  I  judge,  went  to 
the  mark. 

From  Mrs.  Bamfield,  a  sister  of  Helen  Hunt: — 

It  is  always  my  custom  when  in  a  new  city  to  be  a  "spiritual 
tramp"  for  a  while,  that  I  may  be  a  witness  of  the  spiritual  con- 
dition of  the  different  churches.  I  had  just  finished  this  tramping 
and  was  expecting  to  settle  down  in  your  son's  church  in  Pough- 
keepsie  when  he  sent  in  his  resignation.  Could  I  have  foreknown 
his  plans,  I  should  have  deferred  my  tramping  till  after  his  de- 
parture. I  knew  from  my  daughter,  who  was  in  his  Church 
History  Class,  and  also  a  member  of  his  walking  club,  how  devoted 
he  was  to  his  work,  and  I  recall  the  high  esteem  in  which  he  was 
held  by  those  of  other  churches.  My  last  interview  with  him  was 
in  the  summer  of  1890,  when  my  daughter  and  I  went  to  hear  him 
in  the  new  Old  South  in  Boston.  He  walked  home  with  us,  but 
could  not  dine  as  he  was  engaged  elsewhere.  Little  did  I  think 
that  I  should  never  see  him  again. 

Gratifying  testimony  to  the  esteem  Edward  had  won  as  a 
citizen  appears  in  the  following  letter  from  Mr.  Henry  V. 
Pelton,  a  fellow  townsman : — 

In  the  active  arrangement  of  various  societies, — The  Reading 
Club,  Charity  Organization,  Political  Reform  Club,  Vassar  In- 
stitute, etc.,  Mr.  Lawrence  used  to  say  that  there  was  no  one  who 
had  worked  with  him  in  so  many  as  myself.  You  can  understand 
how  I  esteemed  such  a  friend  and  of  how  much  value  his  friend- 
ship was  to  me.  I  have  known  no  one  who  entered  more  fully 
into  the  life  of  the  city  in  which  he  lived  than  did  Mr.  Lawrence. 
Whatever  movement  promised  to  be  of  benefit  to  the  commun- 
ity had,  not  only  his  sympathy,  but  his  active  co-operation.  He 
never  spared  time  or  strength,  or  shirked  responsibility,  and  I  be- 
lieve that  Poughkeepsie  never  had  a  citizen  who,  in  the  same 
length  of  time,  contributed  more  to  its  social,  intellectual  and 
moral  life  than  did  Mr.  Lawrence,  nor  one  who  was  more  missed 
from  all  these  different  spheres. 

The  formation  of  the  Charity  Organization  Society  was  practi- 
cally his  work.  In  1879,  very  early  in  the  history  of  organized 
charity,  and  when  the  plan  of  it  was  known  to  very  few,  Mr  Law- 
rence discovered  its  value  and  determinted  that  Poughkeepsie 
should  have  the  help  of  such  an  organization  in  its  charitable 
work.  With  that  thoroughness  that  was  characteristic  of  him, 
his  investigation  of  its  merits  was  not  complete  until  he  had  visited 
Buffalo,  where  it  was  established  very  early,  and  there  studied  its 
methods  and  its  aim.  To  the  society  formed  here  he  gave  most 
unwearied  service  during  the  remainder  of  his  stay  in  the  city.  He 


2l8  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


was  at  no  time  its  nominal  head,  but  only  because  he  refused  so 
to  be,  but  it  was  his  energy  and  perseverance  which  kept  up  the 
work  and  aroused  the  interest  when  it  flagged.  Whatever  the 
Society  has  accomplished  here  has  been  owing  to  Mr.  Lawrence's- 
discernment  and  perseverance. 

A  little  later,  when  the  first  opposition  was  manifested  to  the 
corruption  of  voters,  which  was  then  very  prevalent  in  Pough- 
keepsie,  no  voice  rang  out  more  boldly  in  its  denunciation  than 
did  that  of  Mr.  Lawrence.  But  that  was  not  all.  It  was  always 
characteristic  of  him  not  only  to  denounce  evil  but  to  fight  it; 
not  only  to  preach  righteousness  but  to  take  measures  to  exten-I 
it.  When  the  talking  was  over  and  most  of  the  talkers  had  retired,, 
he  remained  with  us,  an  active  member  of  the  Executive  Committee, 
uncompromising  and  unterrified,  as  long  as  he  remained  in  the  city. 

These  two  movements  were  only  a  part,  though  an  important 
part,  of  Mr.  Lawrence's  contribution  to  the  development  of  a 
wholesome  life  among  his  fellow  citizens.  I  have  known  no  other 
pastor  who  touched  this  life  at  so  many  points,  and  very  few  who 
have  exercised  so  wide  or  so  strong  an  influence  for  good.  His 
participation  in  the  social  and  intellectual  life  of  Poughkeepsie  and 
the  strong  influence  which  his  Christian  spirit  and  scholarly  tastes 
enabled  hm  to  exert  in  both,  are  only  other  manifestations  of  the 
helpfulness  which  marked  his  life  here. 

His  departure  from  the  city  was  a  great  loss  to  me  personally 
as  well  as  to  the  city  at  large. 

Study,  Feb.  i8th,  1883. 
I  have  repeated  by  request  my  sermon  preached  in  October 
on  Christ  as  a  Friend.  I  have  never  been  busier — or  done  more 
work  than  now,  yet  often  have  been  more  hurried  and  less  rest- 
ful. There  are  occasional  gleams  and  lightings  up  from  above 
and  beyond.  I  think  I  never  prayed  more  truly  than  now,  never 
had  a  more  quiet,  sweet  sense  of  God's  nearness  and  love,  never 
felt  more  glad  to  leave  myself  in  his  hands. 

March  5th,  1883. 

Miss  McKown's  death  is  indeed  a  great  loss  for  us.  She  was  a 
true  woman. 

It  must  have  been  a  fine  sight  to  look  down  on  the  breaking 
up  of  the  Mississippi.  How  delightful  to  have  a  few  touches  of 
spring  again!  The  lengthening  days  and  strengthening  sun  and 
retreating  snow  seem  beautiful.  But,  of  course,  there  is  much  more 
wind  and  cold  in  reserve. 

Study,  March  27th,  1883. 
What  gay  times  you  are  having  in  St.  Louis!  I  am  glad  you  can 
meet  so  many  charming  people  and  renew  your  youth. 

Study,  April  2nd,  1883. 
I  see  you  are  going  the  same  round  in  Chicago  as  in  St.  Louis. 
I  am  glad  father  gains  so  much  in  travel.    I  hope  you  will  hear 
Prof.  Swing  while  in  Chicago. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  219 


April  9th. 

Our  subject  last  Thursday  evening  was  Family  Worship.  I 
asked  those  in  whose  families  this  was  a  practice  to  raise  the 
hand.  To  my  great  surprise  only  half  a  dozen  families  were  re- 
presented. I  mean  soon  to  preach  about  it.  In  the  History  class, 
we  are  in  the  midst  of  the  controversies,  and  just  taking  up  Pela- 
gianism.  There  is  no  way  of  learning  like  that  of  teaching  others. 
The  Literary  Club  is  through  for  the  year,  and  I  have  declined  to 
take  tK'e  presidency  again. 

April  16th,  1883. 

I  preached  last  night  on  Ambrose,  and  come  next  Sunday  to 
Augustine,  which  will  be  the  last  of  the  course.  I  hope  soon  to 
begin  a  series  of  evening  discourses  on  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 

I  suppose,  if  it  was  possible  for  you  to  get  away  from  Chicago 
and  its  many  attractions,  that  you  are  now  at  Columbus. 

April  30th. 

Last  Wednesday  afternoon,  I  walked  up  to  West  Park,  six 
miles  north,  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  held  a  school  house 
service.  I  went  mainly  to  look  the  ground  over,  as  they  have  no 
church.  Mr.  John  Burroughs  lives  there,  and  is  interested,  and 
I  hope  to  have  something  done  for  them. 

Newburgh,  May  13th. 
Here  I  am  with  the  dear,  good  Wilkinsons.  I  came  here  on  an 
exchange  with  Mr.  Fairley,  the  Reformed  Episcopal  clergyman. 
As  I  went  on  in  the  service,  the  power  of  it  took  more  and  more 
hold  upon  me.  The  solemn  words,  their  reaching  out  to  every 
condition  of  life,  their  fulness  of  comfort  and  meaning,  the  con- 
gregation following  along — all  was  a  joy  to  me.  Yet  I  should 
want  to  be  in  perfect  freedom  to  use  or  omit  it.  And  these  dear 
children!  it  is  a  delight  to  be  with  them. 

On  our  return  from  the  West  we  passed  a  few  days  at 
Schenectady  with  our  friend,  Mrs.  President  Nott.  As  the 
20th  of  May  was  our  wedding  anniversary,  we  were  all 
anxious  to  have  Edward  with  us,  and  the  Congregational 
minister  kindly  sent  him  a  telegram,  proposing  an  ex- 
change.  To  which  he  replied : 

Poughkeepsie,  May  19th,  1883. 
When  the  telegram  first  came,  I  thought  I  might  arrange  for 
going.  But  one  thing  after  another  came  up,  and  I  felt  obliged 
to  decline.  So  I  can  only  send  my  very  best  wishes  for  your 
wedding  day.  It  has  been  a  great  disappointment,  but  we  will 
make  amends  when  we  meet. 

As  this  anniversary  proved  our  last,  Edward  always  re- 


220   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


gretted  that  he  did  not  break  through  everything  and  come 
to  us.   He  did,  however,  come  by  letter. 

Sunday,  May  20th,  1883. 

Dear  Father  and  Mother: — 

What  a  beautiful  day  for  your  wedding! 
How  it  brings  up  that  sweet  time  so  long  ago — one  of  the  bright- 
est days  of  my  life  it  seemed, — the  Silver  Wedding  at  Dingle  Side. 
It  is  not  long  to  the  Golden  Wedding  now,  which  you  will  have 
here,  or  there.  Oh,  but  all  will  be  golden  then !  George  MacDon- 
ald  in  Seaboard  Parish,  gives  this  couplet,  you  remember,  from 
the  tombstone  of  an  aged  pair,  who  had  been  married  fifty  years :  — 

"A  long  time  this  may  seem  to  be. 
But  it  did  not  seem  long  to  we." 

May  31st,  1883. 

Last  Sunday  morning  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  came 
to  our  church.  I  preached  an  hour,  but  was  fortunate  in  holding 
the  attention  of  the  men  to  the  very  last. 

Study,  June  loth,  1883. 

I  wish  I  could  tell  you  all  about  the  grand  Home  Missionary 
Convention  held  in  Saratoga.  I  attended  all  the  meetings,  and  it 
%\as  one  continued  glow.  There  was  no  heresy-hunt,  no  nerve- 
cutting.  On  the  contrary  the  speakers  quietly  showed  what  is 
the  true  nerve  and  motive  of  all  mission  work, — the  constraining 
love  of  Christ.  The  meeting  appealed  to  every  sentiment  of  pa- 
triotism and  religion  combined.  I  never  saw  a  nobler  company, — 
young  warriors,  gray-headed  veterans.  I  met  many  old  friends.  T 
got  full  of  the  matter  and  when  they  began  pledging  for  the  extra 
$100,000,  I  pledged  Poughkeepsie  for  $100  extra.  A  good  deal, 
you  will  say,  as  we  had  enlarged  our  contributions,  and  have  raised 
$1,000  for  the  church.  But  I  took  the  risk.  So  after  my  sermon 
this  morning,  I  sent  slips  around  for  the  pledges.  And  when  I 
counted  up  the  amount  I  found  $134.25.  The  people  are  growing 
finely  in  the  good  work.  I  am  learning  to  ask  and  expect  more 
and  more  of  them  all  the  time. 

I  must  say  that  the  West  draws  strongly  on  me.  I  think  the 
young  men  should  more  and  more  go  Westward,  leaving  the 
Eastern  churches  for  the  older  men.  As  I  am  unmarried,  there 
seem  special  reasons  for  my  going.  Another  could  now  easily 
take  my  work  here.  I  could  make  a  home  for  you,  and  in  a  year 
or  two,  have  you  with  me.  Yet  there  are  strong  ties  here.  And 
I  want  to  continue  my  Church  History  Class.  Well,  I  am  not  go- 
ing at  once,  but  must  wait  for  providential  indications. 

By  the  way,  those  aesthetic  stockings  have  come  out  of  the  wash, 
sobered  down  to  a  common  gray.  That  is  the  trouble  with 
aestheticism, — it  won't  wash. 

July  2nd,  1883. 

The  week  at  Mohonk  with  Mr.  Hall  was  one  of  the  most  de- 
lightful I  ever  spent.    Day  after  day  we  rowed  about  to  new  scenes 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  221 


and  new  wonders.  I  want  you  sometime  to  go  to  Mohonk,  which 
seems  like  fairyland. 

What  a  time  you  have  had  with  your  old  letters!  I  shall  prize 
them  very  much,  you  may  be  sure. 

Edw^ard  wished  his  mother  to  select  and  preserve  for  him 
in  a  letter  file  her  old  family  letters,  as  well  as  those  from 
intimate  friends.   Alas,  for  human  plans ! 

On  Edward's  last  Sunday  before  his  vacation,  a  commit- 
tee from  Plymouth  Church,  Syracuse,  went  on  to  Pough- 
keepsie  to  hear  him  preach,  though  he,  of  course,  knew 
nothing  of  it.  Edward  left  the  next  day  for  Linden  Home, 
while  the  Committee  went  through  the  town  to  learn  all 
they  could  about  him,  leaving,  as  they  said,  no  stone  un- 
turned. As  the  result,  one  of  them  came  to  Marblehead  to 
lay  the  matter  of  a  removal  before  him,  leaving  it  for  his 
consideration.  Edward  soon  started  for  the  Adirondacks, 
although  he  regretted  to  leave  his  father,  who  was  quite  ill. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


ONCE  AND  FOREVER. 

Our  own,  our  own  forever. 

God  taketh  not  back  his  gifts. 

— Susan  Coolidge. 

Plattsburg,  August  8th,  1883. 
.  .  .  At  St.  Albans,  I  had  time  to  run  up  and  get  a  view  of  the 
distant  Adirondacks,  the  sight  of  which  gave  me  new  hfe.  We 
were  an  hour  late  at  Champlain,  but  at  ten  o'clock  I  found  faith- 
ful Martin  Stetson  waiting  for  me,  and  the  family  at  home  the 
same.  Yesterday  was  a  busy  day,  for  the  Cooks  left  me  free  to 
come  and  go.  Harriet  Doolittle  is  not  her  old  self  at  all.  I  spoke 
with  her  about  Binghamton.  I  cannot  help  an  increasing  feeling 
of  sadness  as  I  go  to  Champlain  year  after  year,  and  find  one  after 
another  dropping  away.  But  there  is  a  fine  set  of  children  coming 
up. 

Camp  Fredo,  Ausable  Pond,  Aug.  12th. 
I  can  hardly  describe  my  feelings  on  coming  here.  The  day 
was  clear  and  still;  lakes,  forests  and  mountains  made  a  world 
apart  by  itself.  I  was  glad  to  be  back  here  again.  In  winter  and 
working  hours  I  had  sometimes  longed  for  the  stillness  and  rest 
of  the  place.  Yet  there  was  something,  at  first,  painful  in  the  soli- 
tude. The  break  away  from  the  busy,  bustling  world  could  hard- 
ly come  without  a  shock.  But  now  that  is  past,  and  I  feel  that  here 
is  the  very  heart  of  peace  and  the  source  of  rest,  and  also  of  in- 
spiration. It  is  not  only  a  balm  for  the  wear  of  work,  and  for  all 
bruises  and  breaks,  but  somehow  a  spring  for  coming  life.  The 
strength  of  future  days  seems  to  be  here,  power  for  endurance 
and  power  for  work.  The  fret  and  worry  of  the  city  cannot  pene- 
trate so  deep  as  this  peace,  which  is  not  a  mere  surface  peace  of 
nature,  but  of  the  mind  of  God.  I  think  much  of  the  dear  home- 
circle,  and  hope  all  is  well. 

The  Adirondacks,  Aug.,  1883. 
We  had  intended  to  climb  the  Giant  with  Parker,  but  we  heard 
that  the  ascent  from  Elizabethtown  was  easy,  and  finally  con- 
cluded to  try  it.  So  we  started  off  on  the  turnpike  for  New  Russia. 
After  three  miles,  we  turned  west  on  a  wood-road  past  several 
shanties  where  we  got  directions.  We  had  provided  ourselves  with 
a  lunch,  which  was  brought  done  up  in  newspapers.  I  sent  it  back 
to  have  it  put  in  brown  paper,  and  so  it  came  to  us.    But  when  we 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  223 


opened  it,  we  found  the  brown  paper  had  been  put  over  the  other, 
so  we  were  still  at  the  mercy  of  printers'  ink. 

All  went  well,  till  we  came  to  the  last  shanty.  No  one  was 
there.  We  saw  the  Giant,  however,  and  as  the  way  seemed  plain 
we  went  on.  Just  here  we  must  have  missed  it  in  taking  the  right 
instead  of  the  left.  But  we  pushed  on  through  overgrown  wood- 
roads  until  they  came  to  an  end.  Then  we  took  our  course  by  the 
compass,  wandering  on,  occasionally  striking  a  trail.  The  signs 
were  not  satisfactory,  yet  we  could  only  push  on  and  up.  Finally 
we  saw  towering  above  us  a  long  ridge.  "It  either  is  the  Giant, 
or  will  show  us  the  Giant,"  I  said.  So  we  plunged  into  the  forest 
striking  up  the  steep  sides  without  the  sign  of  a  path.  It  was  a 
long,  hard  climb.  Soon  we  came  to  the  top  of  the  ridge,  which 
was  covered  with  forests.  I  thought  I  saw  the  Giant  just  opposit-e, 
yet  there  was  no  course  but  to  go  on.  I  never  knew  a  top  so  far 
off.  We  concluded  that  if  there  are  bottomless  pits,  there  must 
be  topless  peaks,  and  that  the  Giant  had  lost  his  head.  The  day 
was  wearing  on,  and  it  became  a  question,  not  of  reaching  the 
Giant,  but  of  getting  out  of  the  woods.  I  had  a  map  and  a  com- 
pass, but  as  we  did  not  know  where  we  were,  I  could  not  tell 
where  to  go.  Leaving  Jonathan  to  rest,  I  explored  a  little  and 
surveying  the  country  o'er,  I  decided  that  if  we  took  a  course  a 
little  north,  we  should  bring  up  in  Keene  Valley.  But  Mr.  Hall 
was  hardly  able  to  climb  any  more,  nor  was  I  anxious  for  it.  So  we 
struck  down  the  mountain,  following  the  course  of  the  brooks. 
It  was  through  the  dense  forest  where  the  light  was  growing  dim. 
Every  once  in  a  while,  we  became  entangled  in  a  jungle  of  bushes, 
where  it  was  almost  impossible  to  push  through.  We  took  a  little 
lunch,  drank  of  the  brook,  and  went  on  refreshed.  But  following 
the  brooks  we  were  going  nearly  south,  matters  were  growing 
serious,  and  the  woods  were  growing  dark.  We  sat  down  and  de- 
liberated. It  was  now  between  six  and  seven.  Giving  up  all  hope 
of  reaching  Keene,  we  took  a  course  about  N.  E.  along  the  moun- 
tain side  and  finally  down  into  the  valley.  Still  there  were  miles 
of  forest  before  us  and  we  could  only  pick  our  way  slowly.  We 
were  evidently  in  for  it.  "We  will  go  a  few  steps  farther,  and  then 
we  must  give  it  up."  Had  we  matches  for  a  fire?  Fortunately  I 
nad  my  little  box.  We  had  also  the  precious  remains  of  that 
lunch  in  the  newspapers,  and  Mr.  Hall  had  his  revolver.  But  we 
had  no  shawls,  no  hatchet  to  cut  wood  with,  only  a  knife.  We 
could,  however,  break  up  the  dry  timber  and  make  a  fire.  We 
began  to  look  out  for  a  good  place.  Just  then  we  struck  on  a  wood- 
road.  What  a  remarkable  intervention!  Do  you  recall  the  knight 
wandering  through  the  woods  in  Undine?  I  thought  of  that.  But 
we  soon  lost  the  road.  The  quarter  moon  piercing  through  the 
trees  was  all  the  light  we  had.  But  we  pushed  on  and  found  an- 
other road,  and  then  lost  that. 

The  game  was  up.  Now  we  must  devote  ourselves  to  gathering 
dry  wood  for  a  fire.  But  we  had  a  burning  thirst  and  must  sleep 
near  a  brook.  So  we  pushed  down  in  search  of  one.  Just  then 
we  came  on  another  road,  and  forgetting  the  brook,  we  pressed 


2  24   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


along,  through  all  its  windings,  soon  passing  a  deserted  shanty. 
At  last  we  came  out  to  a  large  clearing.  A  superb  valley  in  the 
midst  of  a  cluster  of  mountains!  On  the  other  side  of  the  clear- 
ing we  found  a  highway,  and  then  a  house.  There  we  learned 
that  we  were  on  the  Keene  road.  Refreshing  ourselves  with  a 
drink  of  milk,  we  decided  to  try  for  Keene.  It  was  now  half-past 
eight.  Blin's  hotel,  where  rooms  were  awaiting  us,  was  ten  miles 
away.  Could  the  man  of  the  house  drive  us  there?  Impossible, 
for  his  wagon  was  broken,  but  Mr.  Shores  at  the  next  house 
might.  We  found  Mr.  Shores  in  bed.  "Will  you  drive  us  to  Keene 
Valley?"  "I  can't  do  it,  as  my  horse  is  up  under  the  mountains." 
Mr.  Ryan,  however,  at  the  next  house  had  horses.  So  on  to  Mr. 
Ryan's.  "Have  you  horses  to  take  us  to  Keene?"  Mr.  Ryan  got 
out  of  bed  to  tell  us  that  he  had  horses,  but  no  wagon.  This  grew 
desperate.  We  must  combine  forces.  "Mr.  Shores  has  a  buck- 
board.  Can't  you  put  your  horse  to  his  wagon,  and  drive  us  over?" 
This  seemed  a  happy  thought.  Charley,  the  boy,  was  roused  and 
soon  came  back  with  the  Ryan  team.  It  had  been  very  warm 
all  day  and  our  clothes  were  damp  from  perspiration.  Had  he  a 
couple  of  shawls  that  he  could  lend  us  for  the  night?  No  shawls, 
but  he  had  some  blankets  if  they  would  do.  So  he  brought  out 
two  large  pieces  of  home  made  rag  carpeting  which  we  wound 
about  us.  You  would  have  laughed  to  see  us,  but  I  don't  know 
what  we  should  have  done  without  them.  So  we  drove 
on,  three  on  the  seat  of  the  gently  rocking  buckboard.  The  moon 
was  just  setting,  the  forest  clad  mountains  rose  solemnly  on  every 
hand.  By  eleven  o'clock  we  were  at  Blin's.  He  was  just  shutting 
up,  but  came  at  once  to  meet  us.  Rooms  were  ready,  and  he 
would  have  a  hot  supper  in  a  short  time.  We  washed,  changed  our 
garments,  descended,  ate  a  royal  meal  at  half-past  eleven,  chatted 
with  Blin,  and  ofT  to  bed  at  midnight. 

Saranac  Lake,  Aug,  23rd,  1883. 
It  was  good  to  reach  this  familiar  spot.  But  there  came  a 
surprise.  A  postal  from  home,  dated  eight  days  before  told  me 
of  father's  dangerous  sickness,  and  called  me  home.  While  I  was 
arranging  for  a  team  of  horses,  Sam  Dunning,  the  old  guide  of 
seventy  years,  with  various  letters,  brought  me  a  telegram  from 
Mrs.  Hall,  conveying  mother's  summons.  Much  time  had  passed 
and  it  might  be  too  late.  But  I  would  not  believe  this.  That 
evening  at  ten,  we  started  with  a  two  horse  team,  in  a  large  spring 
wagon,  to  ride  forty-two  miles  in  a  dark  night,  through  woods 
and  over  mountains,  over  logs  and  rocks,  to  North  Creek,  the  near- 
est railroad  station,  where  the  train  left  at  9.30.  Our  driver  had 
been  up  for  two  or  three  nights  and  warned  us  that  he  was  desper- 
ately sleepy.  We  had  been  rowing  all  day  and  were  also  sleepy, 
especially  Jonathan.  I  therefore  felt  the  necessity  of  a  semi-oc- 
casional interjected  question,  at  which  the  driver  would  start  up 
and  urge  on  the  team,  "Go  on!  Go  on!  Go  on!"  Once  or  twice  I 
took  the  reins  and  let  him  snooze.  But  I  could  see  nothing  be- 
yond the  horses,  which  fortunately  kept  the  road.    Now  and  then. 


EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  D.  D. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  22$ 

all  three  were  asleep,  nodding  and  swaying  about  with  the  jouncing 
of  the  wagon,  till  a  sudden  bounce  would  almost  snap  off  my  head. 
There  was  need  of  haste,  for  it  would  be  all  we  could  do  to  make 
the  necessary  four  miles  an  hour.  By  midnight,  the  moon  shone 
through  the  clouds,  which  helped  us  much.  About  one  o'clock, 
we  stopped  at  a  little  hut  to  feed  the  horses,  during  which  pro- 
cess our  driver  lay  down  on  a  bench  and  snored,  till  we  awoke 
him.  We  reached  the  station,  in  time  to  take  breakfast,  and  to  send 
a  despatch  to  mother,  "Expect  me  in  the  midnight  train,  from 
Boston  to  Marblehead."  And  ten  minutes  past  12.00,  I  found 
mother  awaiting  me  at  the  door. 

How  eagerly  had  his  coming  been  watched  for,  and  how 
satisfied  his  father  looked  when  he  entered  the  room!  Dur- 
ing those  sad  days  he  proved  the  greatest  possible  comfort 
and  help.  And  when,  on  Sept.  4th,  the  dear,  patient  sufferer 
went  home,  it  was  on  him  that  we  all  relied.  His  sister  had 
a  friend  with  her,  Miss  Kate  Dalton,  full  of  interest  and 
sympathy.  When,  unwilling  the  mother  should  be  alone  at 
night,  Anna  proposed  the  friend  should  be  with  her,  and  the 
mother  objected  to  the  daughter's  being  left  alone,  Edward, 
overhearing,  said  that  all  was  arranged.  He  had  the  couch 
that  was  in  his  mother's  room  placed  on  one  side  of  her  bed. 
And  there  the  dear  boy  slept  every  night  that  he  was  at 
home. 

The  morning  after  his  father's  departure,  when  our 
Scotch  Agnes  found  that  Edward  had  opened  the  windows 
and  blinds  in  the  parlor,  she  protested,  at  which  he  told  her 
that  we  could  not  shut  out  the  sunshine  his  father  loved  so 
well. 

To  my  inquiry  what  minister  he  should  ask  to  take  charge 
of  the  services,  he  replied,  "Mother,  I  should  like  to  do  that 
myself." 

No  notice  was  sent  to  the  neighboring  clergy,  as  at 
that  season  they  were  generally  away  on  their  vacation. 
But  his  father's  life-long  friend,  "Bible  Butler,"  as  he  was 
called,  and  Mr.  Hall,  his  Adirondack  companion,  were 
present,  both  of  them  taking  part  in  the  services. 

After  appropriate  passages  from  the  Bible,  Edward  read 


226   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


that  wonderful  poem  from  the  Arabic,  substituting  God  for 
Allah. 

He  who  died  at  Azim,  sends 
This  to  comfort  all  his  friends. 

Faithful  friends!    It  lies,  I  know, 
Pale  and  white  and  cold  as  snow. 
And  ye  say,  our  friend  is  dead! 
Weeping  at  the  feet  and  head. 
I  can  see  your  falling  tears, 
I  can  read  your  sighs  and  prayers. 
Yet  I  smile  and  whisper  this — 
"I  am  not  the  thing  you  kiss; 
Cease  your  tears  and  let  it  lie ; 
It  was  mine,  it  is  not  I." 

Sweet  friends!  what  the  women  lave 

For  the  last  sleep  in  the  grave, 

Is  a  hut  which  I  am  quitting. 

Is  a  garment  no  more  fitting, 

Is  a  cage,  from  which  at  last. 

Like  a  bird,  my  soul  hath  passed. 

Love  the  inmate,  not  the  room, — 

The  wearer,  not  the  garb,  the  plume 

Of  the  eagle,  not  the  bars 

That  kept  him  from  those  splendid  Stars. 

Loving  friends!  be  wise,  and  dry 
Straightway  every  weeping  eye. 
What  ye  lift  upon  the  bier 
Is  not  worth  a  single  tear. 
'Tis  an  empty  sea  shell, — one 
Out  of  which  the  pearl  has  gone; 
The  shell  is  broken — it  lies  there; 
The  pearl,  the  all,  the  soul,  is  here. 

God  all  glorious!    God  all  good! 
Now  thy  world  is  understood; 
Now  the  long,  long  wonder  ends! 
Yet  you  weep,  my  erring  friends. 
While  the  man  whom  ye  call  dead, 
In  unspoken  bliss,  instead. 
Lives  and  loves  you;  lost,  'tis  true, 
For  the  light  that  shines  for  you. 
But  in  the  light  ye  cannot  see 
Of  undisturbed  felicity. 

Farewell  friends!  Yet  not  farewell; 
Where  I  am,  ye  too  shall  dwell. 
I  am  gone  before  your  face. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  227 


A  moment's  worth,  a  little  space. 
When  ye  come  where  I  have  stepped, 
Ye  will  wonder  why  ye  wept, 
Ye  will  know,  by  true  love  taught, 
That  here  is  all,  and  there  is  naught. 
Weep  awhile,  if  ye  are  fain ; 
Sunshine  still  must  follow  rain; — 
Only  not  at  death — for  death, 
Now  we  know,  is  that  first  breath 
Which  our  souls  draw  when  we  enter 
Life,  which  is  of  all  life  centre. 

Be  ye  certain,  all  is  love 

Viewed  from  God's  bright  throne  above; 

Be  ye  stout  of  heart  and  come 

Bravely  onward  to  your  home. 

He  who  died  at  Azim,  gave 

This  to  those  who  made  his  grave. 

No  one  who  was  presenf  will  forget  the  expression  of  Ed- 
ward^s  face  as  he  spoke  of  his  father.  He  had  found  on  his 
desk  a  slip  of  paper  on  which  was  the  following  extract: 
"We  call  it  death  to  leave  this  world,  but  were  we  once  out 
of  it  and  in  the  happiness  of  the  next,  we  should  think  it  dy- 
ing to  come  back  again.  Hoc  vult  Deus.'^  To  which  he  had 
added  his  own  rendering, — "God  wills  it—  the  key  of  the 
Christian  life  in  joy  and  sorrow." 

"This  is  my  father's  message,"  said  his  son  on  reading  it. 
"It  covers  the  whole  ground.   What  more  can  there  be?  . 

.  .  It  is  not  to  a  house  of  mourning  that  you  have  been 
summoned  to-day,  though  there  is  mourning  in  the  house. 
It  is  not  to  the  house  of  death,  though  death  has  been 
among  us.  We  do  not  sit  in  gloom,  clad  in  emblems  of  de- 
spair. We  welcome  to  these  rooms,  the  air,  the  light,  the 
songs  of  birds.    .  . 

"My  father  talked  calmly  about  the  possibilities  of  his 
case,  and  waited  for  results.  'If  I  am  spared  to  do  a  little 
more  preaching  and  writing  here,'  he  said  to  me,  'I  shall 
be  happy.  If  God  takes  me  to  better  work  and  higher 
preaching  there,  I  shall  be  happier.' 

"  'Blessed  pains,'  he  murmured  in  the  midst  of  sufferings; 


2  28   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


and  again,  'My  cup  runneth  over.'  When  the  day  before 
he  died,  I  stood  beside  him  and  repeated, —  'Blessed  be  God 
who  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,' 
he  could  not  well  speak,  but  brought  his  feeble  hands  to- 
gether in  glad  and  solemn  applause." 

Only  a  few  of  Edward's  words,  which  are  taken  from  his 
father's  Memorial  leaflet,  are  here  given.  But  his  familiar 
talk,  of  which  he  had  no  notes,  was  so  tender,  yet  uplifting, 
that  his  mother  begged  him  to  recall  and  write  it  down  for 
her.  And  for  ten  years  I  had  preserved  it  among  my  pre- 
cious treasures. 

In  preparing  this  Memorial,  I  carefully  laid  the  paper 
aside,  that  in  describing  these  last  scenes,  I  might  give  his 
whole  address  (all  his  remarks)  for  the  comfort  of  other 
stricken  hearts.  But  to  my  great  sorrow,  in  some  mys- 
terious way,  it  has  utterly  disappeared. 

At  the  cemetery,  as  Edward  stood  beside  the  casket  and 
said  a  few  words,  his  countenance  was  transfigured. 

I  am  impelled  to  add  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Byrnes,  a  dear 
friend,  who  was  present  at  the  funeral. 

I  esteem  it  a  privilege  and  delight  to  have  known  your  son — and 
to  have  known  him  just  as  I  did — in  his  own  home,  as  a  son  and 
brother,  friend  and  host.  What  pleasant  memories  I  have  of  the 
summer  visits  at  the  old  house  in  Marblehead,  where  his  presence 
was  such  sunshine  !  It  was  good  to  hear  his  footstep, — it  was  so 
suggestive  of  fresh,  healthy  life,  and  how  cordially  he  greeted 
us,  and  how  royally  he  entertained  us  with  his  never  failing  fund 
of  anecdotes  and  songs, — all  intermingled  and  pervaded  with  the 
refinement  of  a  lofty  nature ! 

He  impressed  me  with  such  a  sense  of  life — life  at  its  very  full- 
est and  best — untroubled  by  anxious  care — flowing  out  towards 
everybody  in  constant  helpful  service.  I  can  never  associate  with 
him  the  thought  of  death.  He  even  banished  it  when  in  its  very 
presence  he  ministered  at  his  father's  funeral.  I  shall  never  forget 
that  service — so  beautiful  and  uplifting. 

I  like  to  remember  him  as  he  stood  in  the  hall  at  the  head  of 
the  casket — repeating  that  wonderful  poem  from  the  Arabic, — "He 
that  died  at  Azim."  He  was  so  reverently  calm.  This  last  office 
seemed  the  most  complete  expression  of  his  filial  love.  We  all 
felt  as  if  led  by  him  to  the  very  gate  of  heaven — death  and  the 
grave  forgotten — the  other  life  as  real  as  this!   No  break  in  the  old 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  229 


home  ties,  no  gloom  or  desolation — only  triumph,  and  the  sweet 
peace  that  passeth  understanding,  which  must  have  entered  every 
heart,  however  doubting  and  troubled. 

How  thoughtful  he  was  for  you  all  at  his  sister's  wedding! — re- 
ceiving and  caring  for  the  guests  that  you  might  be  spared  every 
trouble  up  to  the  very  moment  when  he  was  called  upon  to  per- 
form the  service  which  his  manner  so  hallowed! 

I  think  no  son  ever  ministered  more  lovingly  or  devotedly  to 
any  mother.  It  is  in  this  relation  that  I  often  find  myself  think- 
ing of  him.  His  watchful  tender  care  when  with  you  and  his 
thought  when  absent — expressed  in  the  delightful  letters  which  you 
sometimes  allowed  me  to  share.  Realizing  his  great  gifts  as  a 
scholar  and  preacher,  and  wishing  I  could  have  heard  him  often- 
er,  I  am  still  glad  that  I  knew  him  best  in  the  home  circle — for 
there  I  saw  the  perfect  Christian  living  which  he  so  eloquently 
and  earnestly  taught. 

To  a  letter  I  wrote  Edward,  full  of  self-reproach  for 
things  done  and  things  undone,  in  his  father's  sickness, 
which  I  thought  might  have  affected  the  result,  he  made 
the  following  comforting  reply: — 

"I  sympathize  with  your  sufferings.  Yet,  dear  mother, 
although  looking  back  on  the  past,  you  see  things  which 
might  have  been  done  differently,  you  ought  not  to  distress 
yourself.  We  have  not  the  knowledge  of  the  future  to  guide 
us,  and  we  have  to  stumble  on,  often  uncertainly  and  blind- 
ly, trusting  to  God  to  pardon  our  mistakes  and  over-rule 
them  for  our  good." 

We  may  find  the  waiting  bitter  and  count  the  silence  long; 

God  knoweth  we  are  dust,  and  He  pitieth  our  pain; 
And  when  faith  has  grown  to  fulness  and  the  silence  changed  to 
song. 

We  shall  eat  the  fruit  of  patience  and  hunger  not  again. 

So,  sorrowing  hearts,  who  dumbly  in  darkness  and  all  alone 

Sit  missing  a  dear  lost  presence  and  the  joy  of  a  vanished  day. 
Be  comforted  with  this  message,  that   our   own   are  forever  our 
own. 

And  God,  who  gave  the  gracious  gift.  He  takes  it  never  away. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


PASTORATE   AT    PLYMOUTH    CHURCH,  SYRACUSE. 

A  power  was  his  beyond  the  touch  of  art 

Or  armed  strength — his  pure  and  mighty  heart. 

— Richard  Watson  Gilder. 

At  the  request  of  the  Committee  of  Plymouth  Church, 

Edward  concluded  to  go  from  Marblehead  to  Syracuse  and 

quietly  look  about  a  little.    On  reaching  Poughkeepsie,  he 

writes : — 

Study,  Sept.  14th,  1883. 
Back  here  at  length.    I  am  delighted  with  the  improvements  in 
the  church  and  lecture  room.    The  people  are  full  of  sympathy, 
and  had  there  been  time,  some  of  them  would  have  come  to  the 
funeral. 

According  to  the  fashion  of  the  day,  Plymouth  Church 
desired  to  hear  candidates,  and  wanted  to  have  Edward  sup- 
ply the  pulpit  for  a  Sunday.  To  this  request,  as  he  wrote  his 
mother, — "I  replied  at  once: — I  am  not  seeking  a  change, 
am  not  in  any  sense  a  candidate  and  cannot  preach  as  such. 
I  charged  them  not  to  resist  any  feeling  among  the  people 
in  other  directions,  and  that  the  Committee  must  not  be 
bound  by  any  pledges  they  had  made  me,  or  exert  any  pres- 
sure in  my  behalf,  and  that  I  could  not  think  of  accepting 
anything  but  a  spontaneous  and  unanimous  call." 

There  soon  came  a  unanimous  call,  with  the  exception  of 
one  good  woman, — "Aunty  Moses,"  who  objected  to  hav- 
ing a  minister  without  a  wife. 

As  Edward's  objection  to  being  considered  a  candidate 
was  removed,  he  felt  that  he  could  decide  better  after  a  Sun- 
day spent  with  the  Plymouth  people,  thus  giving  to  them 
and  to  himself  an  opportunity  for  judging  in  some  degree 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


231 


as  to  their  mutual  adaptedness.  On  his  return,  he  wrote  his 
mother: — 

I  cannot  say  that  I  felt  any  nervousness  or  apprehension.  I 
knew  I  had  a  message  for  them,  which  was  not  from  me.  The 
responsibility  and  anxiety,  if  any,  I  felt  belonged  to  the  Committee 
who  had  vouched  for  me.  But  as  I  sat  in  the  pulpit  my  heart 
was  full,  and  I  felt  a  sympathetic  atmosphere.  I  thought  of  dear 
father  and  determined  to  preach  a  thoroughly  Gospel  sermon,  with 
a  view  to  nothing  else. 

Among  those  who  at  the  close  of  service  came  up  and  spoke 
with  me,  was  the  one  who  had  voted  against  me, — "Auulv  Moses." 
I  heard  that  she  went  away  saying,  "I  will  vote  for  him  now." 

Poughkeepsie,  Oct.  14th,  1883. 

I  am  anxious  that  they  should  have  the  right  man  here  in  my 
place  and  without  any  candidating.  I  want  to  have  this  settled  as 
soon  as  possible,  so  that  there  shall  be  no  interregnum  or  only  a 
short  one.  When  there  was  talk  of  raising  the  salary  if  I  would 
remain,  some  who  knew  me  best  replied  that  that  would  make  no 
difference,  as  my  decision  would  be  made  on  another  basis.  I  saw 
Mrs.  Elting  on  Friday,  and  she  could  hardly  speak  about  it.  I  knew 
her  true  friendship,  but  was  not  expecting  so  much  feeling.  Annie 
Cudgell,  the  dear,  sick  colored  woman,  says, — "Well  it's  all  right. 
You  see  the  Lord  wanted  you  there,  so  we  must  just  let  you  go." 

When  I  see  you,  I  will  tell  you  what  arrangements  I  have  made 
for  a  home.  Of  course,  I  shall  have  a  piano  for  Anna.  They  have 
promised  me  a  church-study  that  shall  be  satisfactory,  which  is  a 
great  consideration. 

I  was  a  delegate  to  the  Congregational  Council  at  Concord,  N. 
H.,  but  could  not  well  go.  I  had  agreed  on  election  day  to  work 
at  the  polls  against  money,  and  to  come  for  you  later.  But  you 
shall  decide  what  is  best. 

Among  those  who  felt  strongly  at  the  prospect  of  Ed- 
ward's leaving,  were  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Cate,  whose  house,  dur- 
ing the  summer  months,  was  his  home.  Some  time  previ- 
ous, Mrs.  Cate  had  written  his  mother, — "I  told  the  doctor 
a  few  days  ago  that  I  had  one  very  strong  objection  to  hav- 
ing Mr.  Lawrence  here,  and  that  was  I  didn't  see  how  we 
could  go  on  without  him  again.  I  think  he  is  the  loveliest, 
most  rounded  character  I  have  ever  known, — so  bright,  so 
thoughtful,  so  good,  so  saintly,  so  broad."  When  he  had 
concluded  to  go  to  Syracuse,  she  says, — "I  have  not  writ- 
ten you  since  the  sad,  sad  decision  that  your  son  is  to 
leave  us.   I  was  entirely  selfish,  and  I  could  only  see  what  it 


2  32   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


meant  to  us.  For  a  long  time  I  could  not  speak  of  it,  and 
every  time  I  do,  a  great  heart-ache  wells  up.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  even  you  can  understand  what  it  means  to  us.  If 
Mr.  Lawrence  were  my  own  brother,  I  don't  think  I  could 
love  or  admire  him  more.  I  feel  that  I  am  a  better  woman 
for  having  lived  with  him,  and  a  great  loss  will  come  into 
my  life.  I  almost  wish  we  were  going  to  Syracuse.  I  do 
not  wonder  in  the  least  that  you  are  proud  of  such  a  son,  he 
is  so  strong,  yet  so  altogether  lovely,  a  rare  combination  in 
a  man." 

This  friendship,  which  Dr.  Cate  also  shared,  was  none  the 
less  pleasant  from  the  fact  that  they  were  members  of  the 
Episcopal  Church,  Mrs.  Cate  being  the  daughter  of  Rev. 
Mr.  Irving,  rector  of  a  New  York  church,  and  a  nephew  of 
Washington  Irving. 

In  their  great  interest,  they  had  almost  completed  ar- 
rangements for  founding  a  health-cure  at  Syracuse,  and 
were  deterred  only  by  learning  that  there  was  malaria  in  the 
city.  They  finally  established  a  sanatorium  in  Lakewood, 
N.  J.  But  their  friendship  for  Edward  never  varied,  and 
there  were  no  more  sincere  mourners  at  his  funeral,  since 
which  both  of  them  have  followed  him  into  the  heavenly 
world. 

In  a  letter  to  Edward's  mother.  Dr.  Cate  writes : — 

The  trait  in  Mr.  Lawrence's  character  most  impressing  me  dur- 
ing all  our  intimate  association  with  him  was  his  inevitable  sin- 
cerity, his  perfect  integrity.  The  absolute  right  in  the  minutest  de- 
tails of  life  seemed  an  infallible  intuition  to  him,  and  his  unques- 
tioning obedience  a  matter  of  course. 

His  profound  spirituality  impressed  one  by  the  spiritual  atmos- 
phere always  surrounding  him.  Yet  he  was  very  free  from  the 
common  classical  mannerisms,  the  artificial  professional  tone. 

While  possessed  of  all  the  amenities  of  manner  usually  resulting 
from  high  culture  and  refined  associations,  one  felt  that  there  was 
something  infinitely  higher  in  his  intercourse  with  others; — that 
he  was  a  gentleman  by  the  grace  of  God.  One  cannot  think  of 
him,  even  as  a  boy,  as  anything  but  a  Christian  gentleman,  as 
born  and  growing  up  in,  not  into,  the  church  of  Christ. 

Our  friend  was  strongly  social,  and  his  unfailing  fund  of  humor, 
his  geniality,  his  thoughtfulness  for  others,  his  wide  cultivation, 
made  him  a  delightful  companion. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


233 


To  sum  up  all,  he  possessed  that  combination  of  the  best  and 
finest  in  woman  with  true  nianhness  and  strength,  which  forms  the 
most  rare  and  dehghtful  of  all  characters. 

Similar  to  her  husband's  is  the  testimony  of  Mrs.  Gate : — 
"I  shall  always  be  thankful  for  those  years  he  spent  in  our 
house.  It  was  an  education  just  to  know  him,  and  it  is  a 
good  deal  to  say  of  one  you  meet  in  every-day  contact  that 
you  never  knew  him  to  do  or  say  one  thing  you  had  rather 
he  had  left  undone  or  unsaid.  In  everything  perfectly  con- 
sistent, always  so  charitable  and  kindly  in  his  judgments  of 
others,  and  so  absolutely  true,  so  unprejudiced,  so  broad 
and  so  just.  I  had  such  implicit  faith  in  his  judgments  that 
I  found  myself  unconsciously  adopting  his  opinions  and 
feeling  that  they  must  be  right  because  they  were  his.  And 
I  never  found  any  reason  to  regret  doing  so.  It  seems  to 
me  that  he  and  Phillips  Brooks  had  many  of  the  same 
traits." 

Edward  by  special  request  preached  the  Union  Thanks- 
giving sermon  at  Plymouth  Church,  Dr.  Beard,  who  had 
resigned  his  charge  to  become  pastor  of  the  American 
Church  at  Paris,  being  present.  His  subject  was  Gratitude, 
and  among  the  causes  for  this  he  named  the  constancy  of 
nature.  "Our  reliance  is  that  the  laws  of  nature  hold  good, 
that  we  may  depend  upon  them  for  better,  for  worse,  year 
in,  year  out,  by  land  or  by  sea.'' 

Among  the  pleasant  newspaper  comments,  two  are 
given : 

"If  Mr.  Lawrence's  Thanksgiving  discourse  is  to  be  received  as 
a  fair  showing  of  his  ability,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  he  is 
destined  to  occupy  not  merely  a  conspicuous  position  but  a  place 
all  his  own,  among  the  ministers  of  our  city." 

"The  Rev.  Edward  A.  Lawrence  spoke  in  his  excellent  Thanks- 
giving discourse  of  the  constancy  of  nature  as  one  of  the  causes 
of  gratitude.  We  fear  that  after  he  has  lived  in  Syracuse  for  a 
time  and  observed  the  manner  in  which  our  seasons  get  mixed 
up  with  one  another,  he  will  come  to  believe  that  nature,  in  Syra- 
cuse, has  lost  her  hold  on  constancy.  It  is  a  fact  that  we  never 
knew  a  minister,  who  had  lived  in  the  mtropolis  of  Central  New 
York  for  any  length  of  time,  to  call  attention  on  the  last  Thurs- 


234   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


day  in  November  to  the  constancy  of  nature  as  a  special  reason 
for  giving  thanks." 

In  commenting  on  this  criticism,  a  week  later,  Edward 
remarked  that  he  thought  it  very  just,  for  the  weather  had 
done  more  things  in  a  single  week  than  he  would  have  be- 
lieved possible. 

Syracuse,  Dec.  2nd,  1883. 

Dear  Mother:— 

These  are  full  days,  but  in  all  that  I  say  of  what 
happens,  you  may  be  sure  that  the  Past  and  the  Absent  are  inter- 
woven with  the  Now  and  Here.  They  are  a  sort  of  background 
which  change  the  lights  and  shades  of  what  goes  on  before  my 
eyes,  or  an  under-current  of  music  mingling  with  what  I  hear. 

Last  evening.  I  attended  the  Bachelor's  Club  at  Mr.  Ewers',  who 
is  a  most  gracious  host.  About  a  dozen  young  men  belong  to  it. 
It  is  a  very  pleasant  afYair,  with  chatting,  music,  and  refreshment, 
but  I  am  glad  to  say,  no  smoking. 

It  was  some  time  in  this  new  place  before  Edward  could 

make  satisfactory  arrangeinents  for  housekeeping,  especial- 
ly as  it  was  only  for  a  part  of  the  year.  This  time  he  passed 
in  the  hospitable  home  of  Mr.  Ewers,  where  a  warm  friend- 
ship was  formed  between  them,  as  the  following  letter  to 
Edward's  mother  indicates: — 

My  first  thought  is  of  yourself,  for  surely  never  before  was  son 

to  mother  so  devoted,  so  loyal,  so  self-forgetful. 

My  own  recollections  of  Mr.  Lawrence  are  among  the  pleasantest 
of  my  life.  As  my  welcome  guest  for  a  few  weeks,  when  he  first 
came  to  Syracuse,  he  was  the  most  companionable  of  men,  quick 
in  his  perceptions,  genial  and  responsive.  His  heart  was  as  large 
as  his  interests  were  broad.  No  tinge  of  unkindliness  or  selfish- 
ness ever  betrayed  itself  in  his  speech  or  life.  And  none,  I  believe, 
was  in  his  heart.  Many  were  the  conversations  and  visits  at  home 
and  abroad  it  was  my  privilege  to  enjoy  with  him,  and  always 
there  was  something  new  found  in  him  to  respect  and  admire.  He 
was  so  bright,  so  interested  in  all  that  was  going  on  around  him,  his 
sympathies  were  so  quick,  his  information  so  varied,  one  could 
not  help  being  drawn  to  him  both  as  pastor  and  friend.  And  we 
were  looking  forward  to  his  promised  visit  here.  But  I  cannot 
write  of  it.  With  those  who  were  dear  to  him  I  wait  in  sorrow 
and  in  hope. 

Edward  writes  home: — 

The  days  are  full  of  work.  There  is  organizing  and  directing 
to  do  everywhere.  Tuesday  evening  was  our  first  deacons'  meet- 
ing. They  are  a  fine,  strong,  loyal  set  of  men,  on  whom  I  feel  I 
can  rely. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE.  JR. 


235 


There  is  much  to  do  in  all  directions.  Finances  need  to  be  syste- 
matized, young  people  to  be  brought  together  and  set  to  work, 
and  Sunday  School  to  be  pushed. 

Not  long  since,  I  dined  at  Dr.  Beard's  and  had  a  good,  long  talk 
with  him  about  various  important  matters.  He  is  a  dear,  lovable 
man,  broad,  strong-,  tender,  eminently  wise  and  sagacious,  quick 
to  see  the  fitness  of  things  and  to  act  accordingly. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  Edward  succeeded  in  en- 
gaging for  a  few  months  a  house  on  Green  Street.  And  in 
the  last  of  December  he  took  his  mother  to  Syracuse.  His 
sister  and  her  friend,  Miss  Katherine  Dalton,  who  had  been 
with  us  in  our  great  sorrow,  and  Agnes,  shortly  after  joined 
us  there. 

On  the  1 6th  of  January,  the  double  birthday  of  brother 
and  sister  was  delightfully  celebrated  by  a  gathering  of 
their  new  friends. 

On  the  29th,  Edward  was  installed.  Dr.  Beard  giving  the 
charge  to  the  people. 

Dr.  Beard  had  long  been  their  beloved  pastor,  and  it  was 
very  hard  for  them  to  part  with  him.  He  is  now  an  honored 
secretary  of  the  American  Missionary  Association.  But  in 
all  his  changes,  he  never  forgot  his  Syracuse  people.  And 
he  always  manifested  a  warm  interest  in  his  successor,  con- 
cerning whom  he  writes : — 

Your  son's  lovable,  generous  nature  won  every  one  who  knew 
him,  and  those  who  came  to  know  him  recognized  him  as  a  be- 
loved disciple  who  preached  the  gpspel  which  he  lived  and  beauti- 
fully lived.  I  have  not  met  many  from  whose  eyes  there  came 
such  a  language  of  truth  and  grace  as  were  always  speaking  from 
his.    One  never  questioned  that  look. 

I  met  him  first  when  our  New  York  State  Association  had  its 
annual  session  at  his  church  in  Poughkeepsie.  His  bearing  and 
manner  and  look  all  greatly  pleased  me.  I  was  sure  that  he  was 
genuine.  Later,  I  heard  him  read  a  paper  at  another  State  Asso- 
ciation which  gave  me  a  high  idea  of  his  power.  The  next,  I  heard 
that  he  was  my  successor  at  Syracuse.  I  happened  to  be  home 
from  France  when  he  preached  his  first  Thanksgiving  sermon  there. 
My  friends  said  that  I  nodded  my  appreciation  of  it  at  the  close  of 
every  sentence. 

Although  our  paths  seldom  converged,  yet  he  always  impressed 
me  as  a  strong  and  singularly  sincere  and  gracious  spirit.  Not 
many  had  a  more  lovely  look  out  of  the  eye;  not  many  revealed  a 


236   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


more  kind  and  gracious  soul.  I  never  was  surprised  that  people 
loved  him. 

In  his  Inaugural  sermon,  Edward  took  as  his  text,  "We 
preach  not  ourselves,  but  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord."  From 
the  report  of  it,  two  or  three  passages  are  taken. 

We  are  to  preach  him  centrally.  I  mean  by  this  that  we  are  tD 
show  how  the  key  of  our  lives,  the  secret  of  the  universe,  is  in  him. 
.  .  If  Christ  is  the  centre,  he  is  the  radiating  centre,  and  touches 
the  circumference  of  life  at  every  point.  .  .  Christ  is  a  cosmic 
Saviour,  and  is  related  to  all  ages  and  all  spaces.  He  claims  all 
continents  by  mission  work.  He  is  related  to  the  home,  to  the 
state,  to  society,  to  civilization,  to  art,  to  science  and  to  philosophy, 
and  whether  they  serve  as  a  blessing  or  a  bane  depends  on  whether 
they  serve  Christ.  .  .  As  I  have  come  to  know  him,  I  have 
found  him  more  and  more  the  Way  and  the  Truth  and  the  Life. 

Not  long  after  his  installation,  the  ladies  of  Plymouth 
Church  gave  a  reception  to  their  new  pastor,  and  to  Dr.  and 
Mrs.  Beard,  who  had  recently  left  them.  Most  of  the  city 
ministers  and  several  professors  from  the  University  with 
members  of  other  churches  were  present.  This  occasion 
introduced  Edward  at  once  into  the  circle  of  his  new  minis- 
terial brethren  of  different  denominations. 

Among  these  ministers  was  Rev.  Jeremiah  Zimmerman, 
pastor  of  the  First  English  Lutheran  Church,  who  writes : — 

I  was  one  of  the  clergymen  to  welcome  Mr.  Lawrence  as  a  mem- 
ber of  our  ministerial  association  and  I  distinctly  recall  the  favor- 
able impression  made  upon  us  all,  an  impression  maintained  to 
the  last.  As  he  took  an  active  part  in  our  discussions,  he  im- 
pressed us  with  his  intellectuality  and  spirituality.  I  would  char- 
acterize him  by  the  word  "spirituelle"  as  I  understand  it. 

In  his  manner  there  was  a  simplicity  as  marked  as  his  sincer- 
ity, there  being  an  utter  absence  of  self-consciousness.  He  pos- 
sessed a  complete  mastery  of  self  that  was  always  apparent,  for  no 
matter  how  spirited  our  discussions  might  be.  Dr.  Lawrence,  al- 
though intensely  in  earnest,  never  became  excited,  and  while  often 
difTering  from  others,  no  one  was  ever  irritated  by  him. 

I  wrote  him  a  letter  of  congratulation  on  his  betrothal,  only  a 
week  before  God  took  him,  giving  him  the  best  wishes  of  his  sin- 
cere and  loving  friend. 

From  Rev.  J.  Andrus,  first  pastor  of  Good  Will  Church 
in  Syracuse: — 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  237 


I  bless  God  that  I  have  known  our  great,  noble  friend,  and  for 
his  influence  and  help  and  inspiration. 

The  one  minister  who  ever  guided  and  formed  my  character  was 
Mr.  Lawrence.  I  doubt  whether  another  mother  in  the  whole 
world  has  ever  had  so  loving  and  devoted  a  son.  I  have  often 
thought  of  the  time  when  he  would  mourn  for  you,  but  that  you 
should  be  left  without  him  seems  grief  beyond  consolation. 

I  am  richer  personally,  intellectually  and  spiritually  by  reason 
of  his  acquaintance  and  friendship. 

To  know  Mr.  Lawrence  was  a  benediction.  It  is  the  companion- 
ship of  such  as  he  that  makes  life  worth  the  living. 

From  another  brother  clergyman : — 

To  me  the  most  striking  characteristic  of  our  friend  was  his  sim- 
plicity. While  no  one  could  be  with  him  an  hour  without  being 
impressed  by  the  strength  of  his  intellect,  the  extent  of  his  in- 
formation, the  gentleness  of  his  manner  and  the  earnestness  of  his 
purpose,  all  these  qualities  were  seen  to  be  glorified  by  an  artless 
simplicity  which  was  as  beautiful  as  it  is  rare.  Of  him,  Pope's 
lines  were  eminently  true: 

Of  manners  gentle,  of  af?ections  mild; 
In  wit  a  man,  simplicity  a  child. 

He  was  an  Israelite  indeed  in  whom  there  was  no  guile.  His 
profession  of  religion,  his  scholarship,  his  public  teaching  and  his 
social  intercourse  were  at  the  farthest  possible  remove  from 
af?ectation.  A  simple-hearted  desire  to  know  the  truth  and  to  do 
the  right  distinguished  all  he  did  and  said.  This  made  it  possible 
for  men  of  diverse  views  to  work  in  loving  co-operation  with  him. 
It  is  a  remark  of  Burke  that  "genuine  simplicity  of  heart  is  a  heal- 
ing and  cementing  principle."  It  was  so  in  the  case  of  Brother 
Lawrence.  Prejudice,  irritability,  and  pride  of  opinion  were  soft- 
ened and  subdued  before  his  transparent  sincerity  of  soul.  Who 
could  reply  with  rancor  to  arguments  presented  with  such  loving 
ingenuousness?  There  would  be  far  less  of  division  among  us 
into  hostile  theological  camps,  if  we  could  all  be  successful  imita- 
tors, in  this  respect,  of  our  departed  friend. 

It  was  a  great  occasion,  when,  not  long  after  Edward's 

removal  to  Syracuse,  the  Congregational  Club  of  Central 

New  York  was  organized   in   the   parlors   of  Plymouth 

Church.  The  ladies  of  the  church  served  a  feast  worthy  of 

the  occasion,  the  president  of  the  Club,  Dr.  Charles  M. 

Tyler  of  Ithaca,  acting  as  toastmaster.    Among  the  brief 

addresses  reported  was  one  by  the  new  pastor.    "The  Rev. 

Edward  A.  Lawrence  remarked  that  the  principles  of  the 

Congregational  Church  might  be  said  to  be  the  doctrine  of 


238   REMIXISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Christian  Socialism,  or  an  element,  which,  without  religion, 
is  dynamite.'' 

Of  this  meeting  Dr.  Tyler,  now  professor  in  Cornell 
University,  writes: — 

I  first  made  the  acquaintance  of  Dr.  Lawrence  at  the  Congrega- 
tional Club  in  Syracuse.  I  was  at  once  impressed  by  his  refine- 
ment, his  sympath}^  with  his  colleagues  and  his  fairness  of  judg- 
ment. There  was  the  gentleness  of  a  loving  nature,  not  incom- 
patible with  firmness  when  firmness  was  demanded.  I  once  heard 
him  deliver  an  essay  upon  a  point  of  theology,  which,  for  vigor 
of  logic,  breadth  of  scholarship,  conciseness  of  language  and  grace 
of  style,  it  is  seldom  my  privilege  to  hear  equalled. 

Early  in  I\Iay  Edward's  mother  made  her  first  rettirn 
home  after  her  great  bereavement.  Soon  after,  came  the 
tollowing  letter: — 

Syracuse,  May  30th,  1884. 
I  want  you  to  have  this  letter  before  Sunday,  to  help  carry  you 
along  through  the  first  hard  days.  But  you  will  be  very  brave, 
I  know,  and  not  only  brave,  but  calm  and  peaceful.  If  we  only 
have  the  Source  of  all  rest  in  our  heart,  how  truly  shall  we  be  at 
rest! 

I  shall  hope  to  have  fully  a  fortnight  at  home  with  you  in  my 
vacation.  It  was  a  very  good  winter  to  all  of  us,  I  think.  You 
were  wonderfully  kept  through  all  the  dark  days,  and  Anna  also. 
And  Miss  Dalton's  presence  was  a  benediction. 

I  cannot  forbear  giving  here  a  letter  from  Miss  Dalton: — 

Mr.  Lawrence  was  so  full  of  life,  that  somehow  I  never  thought 
he  could  die.  He  seemed  a  part  of  the  very  spirit  of  nature  in 
her  sweetest  mood, — one  of  those  people  who  would  always  re- 
main young.  In  some  of  the  loveliest  and  noblest  traits  of  char- 
acter, he  surpassed  any  one  I  ever  knew. 

It  seems  almost  impossible  that  he  has  ceased  from  activity,  in- 
deed, I  do  not  believe  that  he  has.  Although  you  may  not  see 
him,  I  believe  he  will  often  be  with  you  in  the  spirit.  I  know  he 
never  had  gloomy  ideas  of  death.  For  him  it  meant  more  life  and 
fuller,  wider  fields  of  usefulness  and  enjoyment. 

Syracuse,  June  3rd. 

I  am  glad  the  getting  home  is  over,  and  though  you  will  have 
many  trying  hours,  I  believe  you  will  more  and  more  find  your- 
self casting  all  anxiety  upon  God  and  his  peace  flowing  more  and 
more  into  your  heart.  It  is  a  great  comfort  to  feel  that  I  can  help 
you  as  your  pastor  as  well  as  your  son. 

Wednesday  afternoon,  I  paid  a  visit  by  invitation  to  my  country 
parishioners,  the  Parsons,  who  live  five  miles  out  in  a  beautiful 
country  region.    It  is  one  of  the  best  of  farming  families.  Fresh 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  239 


milk,  eggs,  cottage  cheese  in  abundance.  Then  they  hitched  up  and 
three  of  them  went  in  with  me  to  prayer-meeting.  It  was  hke  old 
times  in  Champlain. 

I  have  just  begun  the  Life  of  Frederick  Maurice,  a  remarkable 
biography  of  a  remarkable  man.  His  parents  and  sisters,  reacting 
from  strong  Unitarianism  into  rigid  Calvinism,  would  not  attend 
his  church,  or  partake  of  the  Communion  with  him,  and  his  suffer- 
ings were  consequently  intense.  Yet  with  all  these  influences,  he 
became  a  broad  churchman.  He  was  a  most  unpractical  man,  but 
so  wise  and  saintly  that  his  life  is  an  inspiration. 

I  have  also  been  reading  the  Life  of  one  of  our  ancestors, 
Lord  Lawrence,  an  entire  contrast  to  that  of  Maurice,  which  is 
almost  wholly  internal,  while  the  other  is  external,  with  hardly  a 
word  in  his  letters  as  to  his  inward  life.  It  is  full  of  action,  for 
he  is  wholly  engrossed  in  the  great  public  work  which  falls  to  him. 

The  public  library  at  Syracuse,  with  its  reading  room  at- 
tached, brought  Edward  much  enjoyment  and  benefit.  And 
with  its  librarian,  Rev.  Ezekiel  Mundy,  he  formed  a  warm 
friendship. 

Mr.  Mundy  writes : — 

I  remember  well  my  first  meeting  with  Mr.  Lawrence  as  he  came 
into  the  library  and  stood  by  the  chair  where  I  now  sit.  His 
frankness  and  geniality,  combined  with  his  definiteness  of  thought 
and  quiet  earnestness,  won  me  at  once.  He  came  frequently  to 
the  library,  made  himself  at  home  among  the  books,  and  showed 
constant  interest  in  the  library  work. 

He  was  a  staunch  upholder  of  all  activities  for  public  and  private 
good.  Every  wise  reform  found  in  him  a  patient  helper.  And  he 
not  only  did  the  duty  that  came  to  him,  but  was  ever  on  the  alert 
for  opportunities  to  serve  his  fellows. 

_He  impressed  me  as  being  always  guided  by  certain  fixed  prin- 
ciples, from  which  there  was  never  any  thought  of  swerving.  He 
seemed  not  so  much  to  resist  temptation  as  to  live  above  it. 

His  life  seems  cut  off  in  the  midst  of  wide  usefulness.  But  we 
may  say  of  him,  as  Staupitz  said  to  Luther,  "The  Lord  has  need 
of  brave  men  there  as  well  as  here." 

Early  in  June,  Edward  attended  the  Home  Missionary 
Convention  in  Saratoga.   On  his  return  he  writes: — 

Syracuse,  June  gth. 

At  Schenectady,  I  met  on  the  cars  some  one  from  the  Conven- 
tion, going  to  Michigan.  This  reminded  me  of  a  splendid  speech 
at  Saratoga  by  a  Mr.  Puddefoot.  So  I  said  to  him,  "Well,  that 
Puddefoot  from  Michigan  is  a  driver,  isn't  he?"  He  was  con- 
vulsed with  laughter  for  a  moment,  then  explained,  "Why,  that's 
my  name."    After  that,  we  had  a  very  pleasant  chat. 

Yesterday,  I  was  obliged  to  announce  that,  owing  to  the  unsan- 


240   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


itary  condition  of  the  premises,  and  in  accordance  with  my  doctor's 
instructions,  I  should  be  obhged  to  withdraw  from  my  study,  so 
far  as  possible.  Since  then,  some  of  the  prominent  men,  after  a 
survey,  have  made  a  plan  which  I  trust  will  be  speedily  carried 
out. 

July  13th,  1884. 

Well,  I  have  found  my  Bellevue.  It  is  Pompey  Hill,  fourteen  miles 
from  Syracuse,  and  1,750  feet  high.  It  was  started  in  1796  by 
hardy  Christian  settlers  from  Connecticut,  who  found  here  a  good 
soil  and  bracing  climate.  I  went  straight  to  a  farmer's,  Carmi 
Hayden,  where  I  found  good  company.  I  slept  in  a  hammock, 
wrote  a  sermon,  took  long  walks,  rode  with  the  Haydens,  played 
croquet,  read  up  Pompey's  history  and  a  little  theology,  and  was 
happy  all  the  time. 

The  Bi-Centennial  of  the  First  Congregational  Church  of 
Marblehead  was  celebrated  this  year  in  July,  1884,  and  Ed- 
ward, whose  father  had  been  a  pastor  of  that  church  for 
some  years,  was  invited  to  make  one  of  the  addresses.  The 
subject  he  chose  was,  "The  Apostolic  Succession." 

Of  this  address  a  few  passages  are  given: — 

Practically,  we  are  to-day  far  nearer  our  quarter-millennial  than 
our  bi-centennial,  for  it  is  249  years  since  Parson  Avery  was  in- 
vited to  come  here.  In  spirit,  certainly,  he  is  the  first  minister  of 
this  church,  and  I  am  reluctant  to  admit  that  the  storm  which  en- 
gulfed that  family  of  ten  as  they  were  on  their  way  to  their  new 
field,  has  robbed  us  of  the  right  to  consider  him  as  your  first  re- 
ligious teacher.  When  this  town  called  him  from  Newbury  he 
first  hesitated  at  the  sacrifice,  then  consented  to  come. 

And  away  sailed  Parson  Avery,  away  where  duty  led, 

And  the  voice  of  God  seemed  calling  to  break  the  living  bread 

To  the  souls  of  fishers  starving  on  the  rocks  of  Marblehead. 

It  was  an  apostolic  choice  made  in  your  behalf,  and  while 
through  the  storm,  "The  soul  of  Parson  Avery  went  singing  to  its 
rest,"  the  influence  of  that  devoted  life  must  have  done  its  work 
among  the  little  stricken  band,  who  were  "Waiting  on  the  mainland 
on  the  rocks  of  Marblehead." 

.  .  .  And  your  pastors  have  kept  up  the  continuity  of  the 
Apostolic  Faith.  .  .  My  father  did  not  state  his  belief  in  just 
the  same  terms  as  John  Barnard,  or  Mr.  Williams  in  the  same 
terms  as  Samuel  Dana.  But  they  have  all,  with  possibly  one  brief 
exception,  moved  along  the  same  line  and  built  upon  the  same 
foundation.  They  were  a  succession  of  apostolic  men.  .  . 
Prominent  among  those  of  more  recent  memory  is  Samuel  Dana, 
wise,  earnest,  his  prayers  full  of  Christian  flavor  and  regarded  as 
the  best  preacher  in  the  Association. 

Many  of  you,  I  am  sure,  join  with  me  in  filial  reverence  for  the 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


241 


dear  one  latest  removed  from  us,  whose  figure  and  whose  char- 
acter are  clothed  to  me  with  the  gracious  dignity  of  an  apostle 
as  with  the  tender  love  of  a  father. 

I  have  just  come  from  the  old  Burial  Hill,  where  the  first  meet- 
ing-house stood.  It  seemed  almost  a  Pisgah  height  from  which 
to  look  over  into  the  future,  to  behold  the  next  twelve  pastors  at 
work  in  their  vineyards.  I  can  wish  for  nothing  better  than  that 
this  succession  may  be  like  that  which  has  preceded  it,  and  that 
this  may  continue  until  the  time  of  the  apostolic  reward,  when  all 
the  centuries  and  their  men  and  their  works  shall  be  gathered 
to  the  Eternity  where  the  Past,  the  Present  and  the  Future  look 
each  other  in  the  face,  where  man  is  clothed  with  God's  likeness, 
where  God  is  all  in  all. 

Mr.  Richard  Dana,  a  son  of  one  of  the  pastors  of  the  old 
church,  in  writing  to  his  sister  of  the  bi-centennial  book  she 
had  sent  him,  says: — "I  was  especially  pleased  with  Mr. 
Lawrence's  discourse,  entitled  'Apostolic  Succession'.  It 
is  one  of  the  best  and  most  original  applications  of  that 
term  that  I  know  of.  Any  minister  who  preaches  the  true 
Gospel  of  Christ,  and  faithfully  ministers  to  the  spiritual 
wants  of  his  people,  is  a  genuine  Christian)  Apostle,  even  if 
he  never  wears  a  surplice,  lawn  sleeves,  or  an  apron,  or  is 
called  a  bishop.'' 

Instead  of  going  to  the  Adirondacks  this  year,  Edward, 
with  his  friend,  Mr.  Hall,  took  a  trip  into  Maine. 

Bangor,  Aug.  14th,  1884. 
We  journeyed  through  Brunswick  full  of  memories,  and  Augusta, 
full  of  suggestions,  the  Kennebec  reminding  me  sometimes  of  the 
Hudson.  I  failed  to  see  your  friend,  Mrs.  Crosby,  and  Prof.  Stearns 
was  absent.  Then  I  thought  of  Griffin,  an  old  New  Haven  friend, 
pastor  of  one  of  the  churches.  We  found  him,  and  surprised  enough 
to  meet  us.  We  all  supped  together,  and  then  he  took  us  through 
the  rain  to  see  Bangor.  A  nice  city,  nice  people,  nice  society,  nice 
churches,  nice  schools,  nice  sewerage,  nice  houses,  nice  furniture 
and  pictures,  nice  women,  nice  teams,  and  nice  stores.  There  isn't 
a  nicer  town  in  all  the  country,  but  no  business! 

Mattawaumkeag,  Aug.  28th. 
We  had  trout  for  breakfast,  and  on  we  went  down  the  rapids  and 
over  the  carries,  till  we  came  to  this  point  where  the  river  broad- 
ens out  to  a  lake  and  where  right  among  birch  and  spruce  trees 
they  have  built  our  Sunday  camp.  We  are  coming  to  prefer  our 
tent  to  the  log  camp.  Everything  has  favored  us.  Running  the 
rapids  is  a  most  exciting  sport. 


242   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

I  wns  greatly  disappointed  that  Edward  failed  to  see  Mrs. 
Eliza  Crosby  of  Bangor,  a  friend  of  many  years,  and  who 
wa?  widely  known  as  a  writer  of  beautiful  poems.  On  his 
second  trip  in  Maine,  however,  he  was  fortunate  in  finding 
her.  After  his  call  to  his  heavenly  home,  she  writes: — "No 
tongue,  I  am  sure,  can  tell  how  great  is  your  loss  in  the 
death  of  your  noble  son.  I  saw  him  only  once,  but  shall 
ne^  ei  forget  how  his  aspect  and  words  impressed  me.  There 
could  be  no  mistake  about  him.  He  was  one  of  the  men 
whom  this  poor  world  can  ill  spare.  And  what  a  treasure 
and  glory  he  must  have  been  to  his  father  and  mother." 

After  reading  his  book,  she  wrote, — "You  must  not  sup- 
pose I  have  had  any  difficulty  in  deciding  on  the  worth  of 
Modern  Missions  in  the  East.  I  have  read  it,  and  read  it, 
and  read  it  again.  It  has  been  my  special  book  ever  since  it 
came, — not  merely  a  book,  but  an  emanation  from  a  pure 
and  lovely  mind.  I  feel  a  choking  sensation,  and  tears  come 
into  my  eyes  when  I  read  some  pages.  On  the  subject  of 
Missions  I  have  never  seen  anything  equal  to  this  book." 

Since  that  time,  dear  Mrs.  Crosby  has  joined  him  in  the 
better  land. 

Syracuse,  Sept.  15th,  1884. 
How  well  we  have  come  through  this  past  year,  with  all  its  re- 
curring anniversaries,  so  saddening,  yet  so  sweet !    And  now  it 
is  onward  through  God's  world  that  we  go,  away  from  the  past, 
yet  to  meet  it  again,  renewed  in  the  better  world. 

Syracuse,  Oct.  6th,  1884. 
You  should  see  the  box  of  delicious  grapes  sent  me  by  dear 
Aunty  Moses.  .  .  I  have  received  from  Bishop  Hungington  a 
pamphlet  containing  three  of  his  lectures  to  theological  students, 
on  Personal  Christian  Life  in  the  Ministry.  It  is  very  heart- 
searching  and  I  have  been  reading  it  with  great  profit.  I  feel  more 
and  more  the  need  of  constant  reliance  on  the  inworking  divine 
power.  Any  weakness  in  ni}'  work  comes  from  the  lack  of  that. 
"Without  me,  ye  can  do  nothing."  Prof.  James  has  sent  me  an 
article  of  his  on  Determinism,  which  I  am  glad  to  see.  I  have  also 
received  a  copy  of  the  Nation,  containing  an  article  on  the  Elec- 
tion, with  which  I  cannot  agree.  .  .  We  have  merry  times  at  our 
table:  to-day,  however,  rather  a  dissentious  time,  for  we  were 
discussing  the  Salvation  Army.    They  are  being  arrested  in  the 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


243 


streets.  We  are  very  tolerant  towards  liquor  saloons,  but  perse- 
cute the  Salvationists. 

Edward  brought  the  matter  into  his  pulpit,  affirming  that 
they  did  not  break  the  peace  any  more  than  the  passing  of 
trains  through  the  city,  or  the  marching  of  political  and 
commercial  organizations.  "Plymouth  Church  has  hereto- 
fore opposed  oppression  and  persecution,  and  should  not 
remain  silent,  when  they  are  in  our  midst.  It  will  be  easy 
for  you  to  proceed  against  it.  I  cannot  believe  that  the  spir- 
i*  of  this  Church  has  died  out." 

J^e  also  drew  up  a  petition  to  the  mayor,  for  the  release  of 
the  Army,  to  which  he  procured  the  signatures  of  clergy- 
men and  leading  citizens. 

Syracuse,  Oct.  27th. 
Yesterday  morning  I  exchanged  with  Dr.  Thurber,  and  in  the 
afternoon  addressed  the  students  of  the  University.    In  the  even- 
ing I  gave  the  annual  address  before  the  city  Sunday  School  Asso- 
ciation.   I  shall  expect  you  Monday  evening. 

E  I'.vard  had  secured  for  our  winter's  residence  a  thor- 
oughly furnished  house  on  East  Genesee  Street.  And  as 
Mr.  Moody  was  to  hold  services  in  the  city,  it  was  arranged 
that  we  should  reach  there  in  season  to  attend  them.  These 
services  were  held  in  the  Armory,  and  were  conducted  with 
Mi  .  .Ad oody's  usual  earnestness  and  spirituality,  and  also 
with  his  usual  good  common-sense  and  tact;  and  with  the 
usual  happy  results. 

Edward  carried  on  his  work  with  his  wonted  enthusiasm, 
as  was  testified  by  a  religious  weekly: — 

Rev.  Edward  A.  Lawrence  of  Syracuse  is  infusing  new  life  into 
his  large  and  important  church.  He  is  found  everywhere  in  his 
extended  parish,  the  young  people  especially  catching  the  inspira- 
tion of  his  zeal,  while  his  fostering  attitude  toward  the  new  enter- 
prises of  our  order  in  that  rapidly  growing  city,  proves  the  wis- 
dom and  unselfishness  of  his  work. 

Edward  formed  a  very  pleasant  acquaintance  with  Rabbi 
Guttman  of  the  Jewish  Synagogue.  And  at  one  time,  when 
Mr.  Guttman  had  occasion  to  be  in  New   York  for  a  few 


244   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


days,  he  called  to  inquire  whether  he  would  be  willing  to 
supply  his  pulpit.   According  to  a  journal: — 

Rev.  Edward  A.  Lawrence,  of  Plymouth  Church,  preached  in  the 
Jewish  Synagogue,  on  Saturday,  to  the  great  acceptance  of  the 
congregation  worshipping  there.  Eighteen  centuries  ago,  it  was 
not  usual  for  Christian  ministers  to  preach  to  the  great  acceptance 
•  of  Jewish  congregations;  but  the  world  has  moved  considerably 
since  that  time. 

The  Rabbi,  on  his  return,  heard  such  a  report  of  the  ser- 
mon that  he  requested  it  for  publication,  and  it  appeared  in 
one  of  their  monthly  journals. 

Extracts  follow  from  a  letter  with  the  signature 

A.  Guttman, 
Rabbi  Jewish  Reformed  Temple. 

Syracuse,  May  22nd,  1894. 
My  heart  goes  out  in  deep-felt  sympathy  to  the  mother  of  my 
good  and  noble  friend,  Lawrence.  Weep  not  for  him,  for  he  who 
has  lived  so  sublimely  leaves  a  great  lustre  behind  him.  He  speaks 
as  eloquently  now  as  ever,  and  his  uninterrupted  breath  inspires 
a  thousand  lives.  I  love  to  think  of  him  as  a  man  of  generous 
sympathies,  clear-headed  and  noble-hearted,  a  lover  of  nature  in 
all  her  varied  forms,  with  lofty  ideals,  the  eye  of  an  artist,  the  soul 
of  a  poet,  a  heart  as  warm  and  tender  as  a  child's,  a  philanthropist, 
patriot,  teacher,  and  friend,  who  wept  with  the  grief-stricken,  re- 
joiced with  the  happy,  and  had  a  brother's  word  and  a  brother's 
hand  for  every  one. 

From  the  Rev.  A.  E.  Winship,  editor  of  the  Journal  of 
Education : — 

It  was  at  the  New  York  State  Association  of  Congregational 
Churches,  at  Oswego,  in  the  fall  of  1884,  that  I  first  met  your  son. 
It  seemed  at  the  time  like  an  accident,  but  it  proved  to  be,  as  I 
ought  to  have  viewed  it,  a  providence  that  threw  us  together  for 
a  week,  eating,  sleeping,  chumming  together  in  a  strange  place — 
neither  of  us  having  aught  to  do  but  to  enjoy  nature  and  human 
nature  in  a  great  convention  together.  I  have  never  known  anoth- 
er who  with  equal  discrimination,  courage,  and  good  nature  sized 
up  men  and  their  utterances.  Traditions  were  prized  but  were 
never  allowed  to  tyrannize.  Honored  names  were  revered  but 
were  never  allowed  to  cover  wrong  in  theory  or  practice.  He 
thought  for  himself.  He  lived  in  the  active  present.  He  lived  for 
the  future  rather  than  the  past,  and  insisted  firmly  and  fearlessly 
that  both  the  past  and  the  present  must  serve  the  future. 

There  were  no  members  of  his  parish  that  interested  the 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


245 


pastor  more  than  the  children.  And  in  public  exercises 
when  he  could  properly  do  it,  he  liked  to  set  them  to  think- 
ing. 

On  one  such  occasion  he  asked  them  questions  about  the 
fruit  of  a  tree  in  a  Scripture  parable.  In  response  to  his  in- 
quiry as  to  what  was  done  with  the  fruit,  a  boy  replied, 
"They  ate  it."  "That  is  true,"  the  pastor  assented,  "but 
what  else  is  done  with  it?''  The  children  were  silent  for  a 
moment  and  then  a  small  boy  on  the  front  seat  shouted 
triumphantly,  "They  can  it."  The  laughter  of  pastor  and 
people  can  be  imagined. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


SYRACUSE,  CONCLUDED. 

Oh,  these  are  they 
Who  on  men's  hearts  with  mightiest  power  can  play — 

The  master-poets  of  humanity, 
From  heaven  sent  down  to  lift  men  to  the  sky. 

— Richard  Watson  Gilder. 

Syracuse,  May  7th,  1885. 
It  seems  hardly  possible  that  the  winter,  with  all  its  happenings, 
is  past.  Over  and  above  its  many  burdens,  it  has  been  full  of 
mercies.  How  needless  is  anxiety  on  our  part!  I  thought  of  you 
all  along,  and  imagined  just  when  you  were  reaching  Jersey  City 
and  Brooklyn.  I  know  you  will  hunt  up  all  your  old  and  make 
many  new  friends.  Thank  Miss  Morrill  for  her  care  of  my  mother. 
Mr.  Kimball  dined  with  us  to-day,  being  very  sorry  that  you  had 
gone.  I  do  thank  you  with  all  my  heart  for  your  thoughtfulness 
in  that  matter  of  our  Poughkeepsie  church  debt. 

May  25th. 

To-day  is  taken  up  with  matrimonial  matters,  and  as  the  chaplain 
of  the  Bachelor's  Club,  I  feel  a  grave  responsibility.  In  the  even- 
ing, after  the  wedding,  we  had  a  rare  time  following  the  social 
dinner.  Mr.  Ewers,  president  of  the  Club,  introduced  the  toasts 
and  every  one  of  the  eleven  at  the  table  made  a  response.  The  wit 
was  keen  and  clean,  the  merriment  great.  We  reached  home  at 
midnight,  saying  good-bye  to  No.  2  of  the  Club.  Who  will  come 
next? 

This  unique  Club  was  gradually  dissolving,  for  as  soon  as 
one  ceased  to  be  a  Coelebs  his  membership,  of  course, 
ceased.  From  two  of  those  who  had  thus  left  the  ranks,  a 
few  words  concerning  their  so-called  chaplain  are  given. 
The  first  is  from  one  who  had  joined  Edward's  church. 

One  of  the  things  for  which  I  am  devoutly  thankful  is  that  I 
came  under  the  influence  of  Mr.  Lawrence  at  a  critical  time  in 
my  religious  experience,  and  that  through  his  earnest  sympathy, 
his  genuine  Christian  faith  and  his  wise  and  kindly  words,  I  was 
led  back  to  the  faith  which  had  been  obscured  and  imperilled  by 
doubt. 

To  me  the  greatest  traits  of  his  noble  life,  so  strangely  cut  short, 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  247 

were  his  utter  forgetfulness  of  self  in  doing  for  others  and  his  sub- 
lime faith  in  God. 

The  other  letter  is  from  J.  Scott  Clark,  who,  although  one 
of  the  Faculty  of  the  Syracuse  University,  was  an  active 
worker  in  Edward's  church. 

It  would  be  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  Mr.  Lawrence  was  the 
most  Christlike  man  I  have  ever  known.  I  used  simply  to  marvel 
at  times  at  his  astonishing  patience  and  fortitude.  He  was  in  the 
fullest  and  best  sense  of  the  word  a  scholar,  yet  he  exemplified  in 
a  remarkable  degree  the  fulfilment  of  the  command  to  "do  good 
and  communicate."  It  is  to  me  one  of  the  strangest  of  all  pro- 
vidences that  one  so  eminently  fitted  to  bless  the  world  should 
be  taken  away,  while  so  many  thousands  of  useless  men  are  left. 

One  who  knew  him  well  wrote,  "He  is  regarded  as  one  of 
the  most  accomplished  scholars  in  Central  New  York,  and 
ranks  among  the  foremost  preachers  in  the  city.  He  is  un- 
tiring in  his  efforts  to  build  the  church  up  spiritually  and  to 
develop  a  missionary  spirit.  His  congregations  are  larger 
than  when  he  came,  and  the  prayer-meetings  are  much  bet- 
ter attended,  while  the  work  among  the  young  people  is  in 
every  way  most  satisfactory." 

Writes  one  of  his  young  men : — 

I  remember  Mr.  Lawrence  with  the  tenderest  love  as  the  only 
pastor  who  seemed  to  have  a  real,  personal  interest  in  me.  And 
I  shall  never  forget  his  great  kindness  and  sympathy  when  my 
mother  was  taken  from  us.  But  I  cannot  express  the  feeling  I 
had  towards  him,  and  shall  always  cherish. 

Brief  passages  are  given  from  the  letters  of  one  or  two  of 
his  church  members : — 

"Your  son's  comforting  words  and  kindly  thoughtful- 
ness  at  the  time  my  mother  was  taken  away  endeared  him 
beyond  expression  to  our  hearts.   His  memory  is  sacred." 

"I  have  thought  much  of  all  the  pastors  of  Plymouth 
Church,  but  to  no  one  was  there  a  stronger  attachment  than 
to  your  dear  son.   He  was  a  model  pastor." 

June  7th. 

On  a  recent  visit  from  Prof.  James,  we  spent  the  evening  with 
a  medium-exposer,  who  showed  us  many  wonderful  tricks. 


248   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Did  I  tell  you  about  Pres.  Ladd,  the  head  of  our  new  college  at 
Santa  Fe,  and  of  an  Indian  School  just  started  there?  Last  Sun- 
day, we  took  dinner  together  at  i\Ir.  Burns's,  and  then  drove  out 
to  the  Indian  Reservation,  my  first  visit.  The  Methodists  have 
been  at  work  here  for  sixty  years,  and  have  a  very  pretty  chapel 
and  parsonage.  The  tribe  is  divided  into  two  portions, — pagan  and 
Christian,  with  the  pagans  in  the  majority.  They  have  their  Coun- 
cil house  and  keep  up  their  dances,  burning  of  the  white  dog,  etc. 
Bad  whiskey  has  much  influence.  They  are  a  mixed,  indolent,  de- 
graded race,  more  hurt  than  helped,  so  far,  by  contact  with  civiliza- 
tion. They  have  a  beautiful  tract  of  country,  but  the  tribe  needs 
to  be  broken  up. 

Next  Sunday  afternoon  our  Christian  Workers  Chorus  of  a 
hundred  voices  start  a  service  of  praise  in  the  empire  rink.  It  is 
an  experiment  to  see  what  can  be  done  for  the  masses. 

Syracuse,  June  29th,  1885. 

I  have  been  to  Homer  to  deliver  an  address  at  the  Academy.  I 
was  entertained  by  Deacon  Hitchcock  and  his  family,  all  broad, 
generous.  Christian  people.  We  had  a  delightful  drive  in  the  after- 
noon, and  in  the  evening,  after  my  address,  we  had  a  banquet  at 
the  hotel  with  toasts. 

On  Saturday  came  our  Sunday  School  picnic.  We  rode  an 
hour  and  a  half  on  the  West  Shore  Road  to  Beacon  Beach  on 
Oneida  Lake,  near  a  pine  grove,  where  the  children  had  a  fine  time. 

A  few  days  since,  I  had  a  delightful  call  on  Mr.  Calthrop,  seeing 
the  telescope,  sun-spots  and  all. 

Syracuse,  July  4th,  1885. 
I  took  tea,  last  night,  with  Andrus,  and  to-day  have  had  a  very 
quiet  Fourth,  taking  dinner  with  Alf  Myers  in  his  pleasant  home. 

July  i6th. 

Last  Monday,  I  started  at  half-past  five,  and  walked  seven  miles 
to  Jamesville  where  the  Parmalees  and  Nortons  are  camping  for 
two  months  in  a  beautiful  grove  beside  a  lake.  I  breakfasted  with 
them,  photographed  and  dined,  and  then  set  off  for  Pompey,  a 
climb  of  six  miles  up  the  hill,  which  seemed  lovelier  than  ever. 
Tuesday  morning,  despite  the  threatening  rain,  I  started  off  over 
a  succession  of  high  ridges  for  Cazenovia,  one  of  the  loveliest 
villages  on  one  of  the  finest  lakes  of  Central  New  York.  When 
within  a  mile  or  two  of  the  place  the  rain  poured  down,  and  I  was 
drenched.  But  I  dried  myself  by  a  good  fire  in  the  laundry.  I 
have  been  off  with  Dr.  Spalding,  who  is  here  to  look  over  the 
ground.  You  will  see  how  well  I  am  when  I  tell  you  that  I  walked 
twenty  miles  in  all  and  without  fatigue. 

I  am  rejoiced  to  know  that  Brother  Greeley  is  with  you,  which 
arrangement  I  hoped  might  come  about. 

Canandaigua  Lake,  Victoria  Glen,  July  20th,  1885. 
Off  again,  you  see.    This  time  it  is  at  Brother  Eastman's  camp, 
eight  miles    from    Canandaigua, — a    pleasant    cottage    under  the 
trees,  close  to  the  lake. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  249 


A  grand  swimming  party  yesterday,  and  in  the  evening  a  row 
four  miles  off  and  a  picnic  in  the  glen. 

I  will  plan  to  come  home  next  Tuesday,  and  then  I  will  do  what- 
ever you  say.   My  time  for  the  week  is  at  your  disposal. 

It  was  during  this  visit  that  a  letter  came,  which  greatly 
moved  him.  This  leads  me  to  go  back  a  few  years. 

While  we  were  in  Poughkeepsie,  Edward  became  much 
interested  in  Frank  Luckey,  a  young  man  of  decidedly 
musical  and  also  dramatic  talent,  and  who  was  betrothed  to 
a  young  lady  of  our  parish.  While  Frank  was  at  Cornell 
University,  Edward  visited  him  there  and  found  the  inten- 
tion he  had  cherished  of  becoming  an  actor  confirmed. 

Sometime  after  Edward's  removal  to  Syracuse,  he  was 
summoned  to  Poughkeepsie  to  perform  the  marriage  cere- 
mony of  his  young  friends.  Not  long  after,  the  troupe  with 
which  Mr.  Luckey  was  connected  went  to  Syracuse  to  fill 
an  engagement  there  on  Saturday  evening.  During  the 
day  he  called,  but  my  son  was  away  in  his  study.  I  invited 
him  to  attend  church  with  us  the  next  morning  and  to  dine 
with  us  afterwards. 

Mr.  Luckey  attended  church  again  in  the  evening,  and  in 
walking  home  with  me  he  spoke  most  warmly  of  my  son, 
not  mainly  as  a  preacher,  but  of  his  daily  life,  and  the  influ- 
ence thus  exerted. 

It  was  while  Edward  was  at  home,  in  1885,  that  he  re- 
ceived the  letter  of  which  mention  has  been  made.  It  was 
from  Frank  Luckey,  telling  him  that  he  had  become  a 
Christian,  and  desired  to  prepare  for  the  ministry.  I  can- 
not forget  the  emotion  he  showed  at  this  tidings.  Arrange- 
ments were  soon  made  for  Frank  to  enter  the  theological 
department  of  Yale  University,  and  he  is  now  a  settled  pas- 
tor in  New  Haven. 

A  few  extracts  follow  from  a  letter  of  Mr.  Luckey's,  since 
Edward's  departure: — 

My  reminiscences  of  your  dear   son   and   my  cherished  friend 


250   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


evade  being  put  into  the  rigid  dress  of  words.  As  well  might  I 
try  to  bottle  sunshine.  But  I  will  say  that  the  memory  of  my 
walks  with  him  along  the  Hudson  and  the  nearer  memory  of  va- 
cation days  in  the  Adirondacks  are  to  me  the  brightest  and  most 
helpful  moments  of  my  life.  His  was  so  large,  so  peaceful,  so  ele- 
vated a  nature,  that  something  of  that  largeness,  that  peace,  that 
elevation  entered  into  my  own  soul  to  live  there  forever.  He  was 
one  of  the  most  influential  of  the  factors  that  led,  under  God,  to 
my  entering  the  Gospel  Ministry.  My  walks  with  him  were 
windows  for  me  into  the  Christian  life.  With  him,  I  saw  what  it 
was  to  be  a  Christian,  although  it  was  not  for  many  years  after- 
ward that  I  entered  into  that  life. 

Some  one  has  said  that  Ruskin  taught  him  to  see.  I  can  truly 
say  that  Mr.  Lawrence  taught  me  to  see  the  beauty  of  the  Christian 
life  by  living  it  before  my  eyes.  I  learned  to  love  Christ  through 
him,  because  I  loved  the  Christian  life  in  him.  He  made  the 
gentleness,  the  helpfulness,  the  power  of  the  Christ  visible  to  me. 
I  was  your  son's  "Timothy." 

After  a  few  daj^s  at  Linden  Home,  Edward  started  for 

the  Adirondacks,  making  a  brief  visit  at  Ctiamplain,  and 

thence  to  Plattsburg,  where  his  friend,  Mr.  Hall  joined  him. 

Champlain,  August  4th,  1885. 

It  seemed  a  long  ride  yesterday,  and  I  was  glad  when  I  reached 
the  station  at  nine  o'clock,  to  find  Allie  Watson  there.  I  met  the 
warmest  greetings  from  the  Stetsons,  and  at  a  late  hour  went  to 
sleep  in  my  old  room.  I  feel  the  power  of  old  associations,  to 
which  you  are  so  susceptible,  more  here,  I  think,  than  elsewhere, 
partly,  perhaps,  because  it  was  my  first  parish. 

I  will  drop  a  line  before  we  enter  the  woods.  I  am  so  glad  to 
have  spent  that  week  with  you.  Our  walks  and  talks  are  very 
dear  to  me. 

The  Ausable  Pond,  Aug.  9th,  1885. 
This  lake  has  never  seemed  grander  in  its  mountain  belt,  than 
yesterday  afternoon  when  we  came  into  it  from  Elk  Lake.  But 
as  I  was  ready  to  give  myself  up  to  the  beauty  of  the  scene,  it  was 
discovered  that  our  boat  was  leaking  badly.  And  since  I  must 
bale  it  out,  I  could  hardly  turn  an  eye  from  my  work.  Thus  do 
the  necessities  of  life  conflict  with  its  desires! 

Saturday  Morning. 
I  wish  I  could  give  you  an  idea  of  last  night  at  Elk  Lake.  There 
was  no  moon,  but  clear  starlight.  As  the  twilight  faintly  lingered, 
we  rowed  to  the  middle  of  the  small  lake  and  floated  there,  while 
we  sang  our  Scotch  songs.  More  and  more  vivid  grew  the  scene. 
The  lake  is  shut  in  by  mountains  of  various  heights  and  shapes, 
except  at  one  end  where  there  is  a  slight  rise  in  the  land.  There 
was  not  a  breath  of  air.  The  stars  sparkled  above  and  beneath  us. 
The  water  disappeared.  We  were  simply  hanging  in  mid  air  be- 
tween an  upper  and  lower  heaven  unsupported  in  an  immensity 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  251 


of  brightening  space,  as  if  we  were  at  the  very  centre  of  a  vast 
sphere,  bespangled  at  every  point.  Around  us  lay  the  dark  moun- 
tains that  hemmed  us  in.  The  form  and  the  shadow  were  indis- 
tinguishably  blended  into  one,  so  that  above  and  beneath  we  saw 
but  one  black  ragged  belt  that  encircled  us,  itself  being  within 
this  starry  sphere.  There  it  was,  a  great,  ominous  girdle  walling 
us  in,  while  we  floated  in  space,  everywhere  else  so  radiant.  No 
language  can  describe  the  effect.  It  joined  the  two  hemispheres  of 
light,  yet  was  within  them  as  they  seemed  to  stretch  far  away  be- 
yond it.  Only  at  one  point  the  cincture  dwindled  down  into 
narrowness.  Here  was  the  single  hope  of  escape  if  we  ever  es- 
caped from  its  relentless  grasp.  I  shall  always  remember  that 
night. 

Adirondack  Village. 
We  have  had  a  siege  of  rain.  The  brook  near  our  camp  rose 
to  a  torrent  and  finally  threatened  the  camp  itself.  We  built  a 
dam  and  watched.  But  when  the  brook  had  fallen,  the  lake  rose 
and  spread  all  over  the  ground.  The  hollow  where  the  camp  fire 
had  been  was  filled  with  water,  serving  as  a  bath  tub  to  step  into 
in  the  morning,  you  see.  Our  fire  we  protected  by  a  bark  cover- 
ing. But  we  went  to  the  boughs  after  dark  and  had  a  good  night's 
rest.  I  kept  in  mind  your  last  injunction,  not  to  get  wet.  And 
every  time  I  stepped  into  the  swamp  over  my  boots,  I  thought 
of  it,  but  what  could  I  do?  And  when  the  shower  came  down 
like  big  guns,  I  thought  of  it,  but  what  could  I  do? 

Lake  House,  Long  Lake,  Aug.  i8th. 
The  question  was  whether  we  should  come  here  by  our  old 
route  over  the  road,  long,  muddy  and  wearisome,  or  should  keep 
our  guide  and  make  a  wild  trip  down  Cold  River,  through  the 
thickest  of  the  wilderness.  As  Saturday  morning  dawned  clear, 
we  concluded  on  the  latter,  replenished  our  provisions,  sent  my 
camera  on  to  Long  Lake  by  a  chance  conveyance  and  sallied  forth 
into  unexplored  regions.  We  had  a  trail  for  about  a  mile,  then 
all  signs  of  man  ceased  and  we  pressed  through  the  forest,  guided 
only  by  the  stream  and  the  sun.  The  streams  were  swollen,  and 
when  we  came  to  one  too  deep  for  wading,  we  made  our  own 
bridge.  Our  guide  would  cut  down  a  tall  tree  so  that  it  fell  across 
the  stream,  and  we  could  pass  over  safely.  Sometimes  we  had  to 
make  our  way  painfully  through  fallen  timber.  Our  pedometer 
registered  the  distance,  but  rather  uncertainly  in  such  walking.  At 
the  junction  of  two  rivers,  we  dined  on  bread,  pork  and  coflfee, 
and  by  four  o'clock  we  had  reached  what  is  called  the  head  of 
the  Stillwater,  where  the  river,  which  has  been  rushing  over  stony 
beds,  suddenly  settles  down  for  two  or  three  miles  into  a  deep 
calm.  As  we  had  beeh  advised  to  float  or  raft  it  down  the  Still- 
water, our  guide  looked  for  a  boat,  but  without  success.  Just  then 
we  came  across  a  collection  of  logs  evidently  cut  down  for  the 
building  of  a  camp.  Here  was  our  chance.  One  by  one,  six  heavy 
logs,  by  the  united  strength  of  all  three  were  lifted  into  the  water. 
Four  of  these  were  of  spruce,  one  balsam  and  one  cedar,  which 


252    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


floated  the  best.  Then,  with  withes  and  some  of  Mr.  Hall's  straps, 
they  were  bound  to  cross  pieces  at  each  end.  A  long  setting  pole 
was  cut.  Now  how  many  will  the  raft  float?  Only  two,  surmises 
the  'guide. 

The  haversacks  are  carefully  stowed  away.  I  embark  and  then  Mr. 
Hall.  It  just  floats  us.  When  the  guide  adds  his  two  hundred 
pounds,  it  begins  to  sink.  "You  pole  it  down  and  I  will  work  along 
the  shore."  So  we  set  forth.  By  that  time  it  is  after  six  and  is  get- 
ting dark  in  the  woods.  The  new  moon,  however,  shows  itself. 
Soon  the  current  ceases,  the  water  grows  deep,  the  setting  pole  is 
of  no  use.  We  must  row  the  clumsy  craft  along.  But  there  is 
only  the  pole  which  Mr.  Hall  holds,  and  a  round  stick  I  managed 
to  pick  up.  The  great  danger  is  that  we  may  find  the  stream  be- 
comes a  narrow  lake,  blocked  by  trees.  The  darkness  increases,  we 
slowly  drift  along  making  a  mile  in  from  one  to  two  hours.  Every 
moment  it  grows  more  strange  and  weird.  The  shores  are  lined 
with  swampy  forests,  whose  black  shadows  make  the  gloom  of  the 
river  more  intense.  We  are  barely  floating  on  the  surface  of  the 
water,  and  as  we  wind  along  the  various  turns  in  the  woods,  the 
moon  shows  and  then  hides  itself,  ever  sinking  lower  in  the  heavens. 
It  seems  as  if  we  had  embarked  on  an  interminable  voyage,  creep- 
ing along  no  one  could  tell  where,  to  reach  there,  no  one  could  tell 
when.  It  must  have  been  nine  o'clock  when,  after  repeated  calls  to 
our  guide,  we  at  last  heard  his  voice,  and  slowly  swinging  around  a 
sweep  in  the  river,  saw  a  camp  fire's  blazing  welcome.  Then  we 
sang  our  canoe  song. 

But  alas,  when  we  reached  land,  we  found  our  guide  simply 
swamped,  that  is,  his  movement  checked  by  a  swale  in  front  of  him. 
We  were  just  at  the  foot  of  the  Stillwater,  and  could  hear  the  rush- 
ing of  the  rapids  close  by.  Once  caught  in  them,  the  raft  would  be 
unmanageable.  It  seemed  best  for  two  to  go  on  in  the  dark  be- 
yond the  swale,  and  then  for  one  to  return  on  the  raft  for  the  third. 
Which  was  done.  I  being  the  third.  Just  as  I  landed,  the  last  to 
step  off,  the  raft  glided  away  under  my  feet,  and  slipped  down 
stream.  We  were  left  in  the  dark  we  knew  not  where,  our  sole  re- 
liance gone,  and  with  them  the  precious  straps.  There  was  wild 
talk  for  a  moment  of  plunging  in  to  swim  for  the  raft,  but  that  was 
speedily  negatived,  ^^'hat  was  our  dismay  to  discover  that  we  were 
really  left  on  a  little  island,  a  few  feet  long,  separated  from  the  land 
by  a  deep  channel  in  which  we  soon  heard  our  guide  wading.  I 
followed  on  in  desperation.  But  all  in  the  dark  as  it  was. I  know  not 
how,  but  by  some  means,  using  the  alder  boughs  which  formed  a 
thicket  about  us  for  a  footing,  I  walked  across  as  on  a  bridge.  Mr. 
Hall  coming  after,  waded  in  nearly  up  to  the  waist.  At  last  we 
were  on  land.  But  how  did  that  help  us?  We  had  been  assured 
that  Mr.  Piatt,  of  Long  Lake,  had  a  camp  at  the  foot  of  the  Still- 
water, and  that  was  where  we  were.  We  discovered  a  blind  trail 
which  we  tried  to  follow  up  hill  and  down  hill,  along  the  shore. 
But  it  was  nearly  pitch  dark,  and  how  could  we  find  anything? 
Happy  thought!   Out  came  my  little  photographic  lamp,  and'  in  half 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


253 


an  hour  or  more  it  guided  us  back  and  forth,  through  woods  and 
thickets.  But  though  there  were  trails  many,  no  camp.  At  last  we 
struck  the  logs  of  an  old  deserted  shanty.  It  was  no  place  to  sleep, 
but  the  logs  would  make  a  good  fire  and  water  was  close  at  hand. 
Here  then,  we  decided  to  pass  the  night. 

It  was  now  eleven  o'clock  Saturday  evening.  First  a  fire,  then 
our  supper,  pork,  tea  and  pancakes.  How  good  they  tasted!  Then 
the  axe  cleared  away  a  little  space  in  the  young  maple  thicket  about 
us.  Log  after  log  was  drawn  into  a  heap  and  a  roaring  fire  started. 
Boughs  were  cut  and  spread  on  the  ground,  rubber  put  under  and 
over  us,  and  there  at  about  one  o'clock,  Sunday  morning,  a  weary 
but  thankful  trio,  with  no  cover  over  their  heads,  but  fire  for  their 
feet,  lay  down  to  rest,  and  sleep  too.  Early  in  the  morning,  we 
found  our  raft  close  at  hand,  and  later  a  camp  where  we  moved 
and  passed  a  delightful  Sunday. 

Monday  morning  we  were  off  bright  and  early.  By  trail  all  the 
way  through  splendid  forests  and  along  the  dashing  river  which 
we  had  to  ford  in  one  place,  going  up  to  our  knees.  Four  miles 
more  of  fine  forest  road  brought  us  to  Long  Lake.  We  quickly 
found  a  boat  and  by  six  o'clock  were  eight  miles  up  the  lake,  to 
our  old  home.  How  good  to  see  the  Nannie  O.  and  to  get  your 
letters!  You  may  be  sure  that  I  have  had  many  thoughts  of  my 
last  visit  here,  when  I  was  summoned  home. 

Among  the  results  of  Edward's  labors  for  Plymouth 
Church  was  the  substitution  of  free  sittings  with  voluntary 
contributions  for  pew-rentals,  the  introduction  of  the  meth- 
od for  systematic  giving,  and  the  forming  of  a  young 
people's  society  that  he  named  the  Society  for  Christian 
Service,  which  later,  however,  was  changed  to  the  Christian 
Endeavor  Society. 

He  entered  warmly  into  the  Temperance  cause,  preach- 
ing, working  and  voting  for  Prohibition. 

Deeply  interested  in  the  rapidly  growing  city,  he  earnest- 
ly favored  every  plan  for  missions  in  dififerent  sections, 
which  should  grow  into  churches. 

As  stated  in  a  Syracuse  paper,  "During  Mr.  Lawrence's 
pastorate,  and  with  his  cordial  support,  three  new  Congre- 
gational churches  were  established,  forty-nine  members  of 
Plymouth  going  out  to  these  new  fields  of  work.  Since 
then,  over  one  hundred  persons  have  been  added  to  the 
membership  of  the  parent  church, — a  permanent  gain  in 
mimbers." 


254   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Syracuse,  Sept.  14th,  1885. 
I  have  just  come  in  from  Mrs.  Smyth's,  and  our  winter-home  is 
settled.    I  am  much  pleased  with  the  house  and  think  you  will  be. 
It  is  quite  near  Dr.  Creegan's,  where  I  have  had  a  delightful  home 
in  your  absence. 

The  house  was  owned  by  Mr.  W.  S.  Smyth,  formerly  a 
teacher  in  the  city,  but  now  at  the  head  of  the  Chicago 
branch  of  the  D.  C.  Heath  Company,  and  whom  both  the 
son  and  his  mother  held  in  high  regard. 

The  meeting  of  the  American  Board  this  year  was  in 
Boston.  And  another  event  of  peculiar  interest  to  Edward 
took  place  during  the  same  month.  This  was  the  marriage 
of  his  birthday  sister,  Roslein,  as  he  often  called  her.  Some 
extracts  are  given  from  an  account  of  it  that  appeared  in 
the  New  York  Evangelist,  with  the  signature, 

"One  of  the  wedding  guests": — 

WEDDING  DAY   AT   LINDEN   HOME,  MARBLEHEAD. 

Notwithstanding  many  fears  on  account  of  the  rain  of  the  previ- 
ous day,  the  auspicious  morning  of  Wednesday,  Oct.  7th,  dawned 
crisp  and  clear.  The  slight  chill  in  the  air  was  dispelled  by  the 
glowing,  old-fashioned  fire  on  the  hearth,  with  back-log  and  fore- 
sticks  worthy  of  Yule-tide,  built  upon  ancient  brass  andirons,  a 
century  heirloom. 

It  is  seldom  that  a  pleasanter  party,  or  one  more  unique  in  charac- 
ter and  circumstance,  gather  for  a  wedding,  than  that  assembled  on 
this  occasion  at  Linden  Home. 

The  stately  old  mansion,  under  its  great  protecting  trees,  crowns 
one  of  the  hills  of  the  quaint  and  historic  Marblehead,  with  its  un- 
even and  labyrinthine  streets,  and  its  wild,  rocky,  artist-haunted 
shores,  and  its  lovely  bay  dotted  with  sails,  the  blue  ocean  gleam- 
ing in  the  distance. 

The  house,  built  by  "King  Hooper"  nearly  a  century  and  a  quart- 
er ago.  but  which  shows  no  traces  of  old  age,  lent  itself  with  all 
readiness  to  the  youth  and  beauty  of  the  occasion.  The  spacious 
rooms  were  decorated  with  vines  and  autumn  leaves,  while  here 
and  there  clusters  of  red  berries  and  long  barberry  wreaths  bright- 
ened the  scene,  the  whole  harmonizing  with  the  Oriental  landscape 
hangings,  too  rarely  seen  in  these  modern  days. 

A  large  number  of  relatives  and  friends  from  Eastern  and  Western 
Massachusetts,  from  New  York  State  and  Ohio,  had  been  drawn 
together — a  delightful  commingling  of  Presbyterian,  Congregation- 
al, Episcopal,  Baptist,  Unitarian,  Methodist,  Quaker  and  Armenian 
thought  and  sentiment. 

This  company  had  assembled  to  witness  the  marriage  of  William 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  255 


Wallace  Nims,  M.  D.,  of  Syracuse,  N.  Y.,  and  Miss  Anna  Dana 
Lawrence,  daughter  of  the  late  Dr.  Edward  A.  and  Margaret  Woods 
Lawrence. 

The  ceremony  was  performed  by  the  brother  of  the  bride,  the  Rev. 
Edward  A.  Lawrence,  pastor  of  Plymouth  Church,  Syracuse,  as- 
sisted by  the  Rev.  Francis  B.  Hall  of  Plattsburg,  N.  Y.,  and  the 
Rev.  S.  D.  Hosmer  of  Auburn,  Massachusetts,  one  of  the  large 
circle  of  relatives. 

A  marked  feature  of  the  occasion  was  the  naturalness  and  sim- 
plicity of  the  arrangements,  as  if  the  company  gathered,  instead  of 
being  formal  visitors  expecting  and  bringing  display,  were  one 
large,  united  and  agreeable  family. 

In  one  of  the  alcoves  stood  the  bust  of  Leonard  Woods,  the 
grandfather,  with  benignant  countenance,  and  on  the  wall  opposite, 
wreathed  with  vines  and  crowned  with  a  sheaf  of  wheat,  hung  tlie 
picture  of  the  sainted  father,  whose  natal  day  had  been  chosen  as 
the  bridal  one,  and  whose  fragrant  memory  hallowed  the  occasion, 
as  his  face  looked  upon  his  child.  Who  can  say  that  his  spirit  was 
not  near,  sharing  the  chastened  joyfulness  of  the  hour? 

There  was  a  prosperous  Browning  Club  in  Syracuse, 
which  Edward  greatly  enjoyed,  and  of  which  he  was  presi- 
dent for  a  year.  By  getting  through  Sordello  without  going 
to  pieces,  it  proved  itself  worthy  to  live. 

A  member  of  this  Club,  Miss  Aria  Huntington,  a 
daughter  of  the  good  Bishop,  writes  Edward's  mother: — 

As  president  of  the  Browning  Club  and  leader  in  debates,  Mr. 
Lawrence  was  most  happy  in  drawing  out  the  various  views  and 
divergencies  of  opinion  which  made  our  circle  quite  a  remarkable 
one.  He  was  ready  to  meet  cordially  those  who  in  fundamentals 
wej-e  most  widely  separated  from  himself.  I  cannot  recall  an  in- 
stance of  impatience  or  criticism  on  his  part  even  in  the  most  ex- 
cited controvery.  Yet  every  one,  I  am  sure,  recognized  how  unfalt- 
ering was  his  adherence  to  his  own  faith.  He  never  belittled  any- 
thing essential,  although  in  keen  sympathy  with  the  liberal  in  poetry 
and  art. 

Those  of  us  who  recall  the  days  when  he  was  with  us,  often  say 
that  the  spirit  in  which  he  sought  for  truth  was  more  exalted  than 
that  of  most  critics,  and  his  Christian  faith  shone  out  in  all  he  said. 

Our  pleasantest  readings  were  in  the  study  of  Sordello,  elucidat- 
ing its  obscurities,  studying  its  history  of  the  times  and  discussing 
its  philosophy.  When  we  reached  the  end, — the  young  minister  cut 
ofiF  in  the  midst  of  his  career — we  little  thought  that  Mr.  Lawrence 
himself  would  lay  down  his  life  before  he  had  reaped  the  harvest. 

The  lesson  of  Sordello  is  the  incompleteness  of  achievement,  even 
in  one  who  has  the  highest  aim,  and  the  mystery  why  goes  un- 
solved. It  is  only  made  very  apparent  that  what  is  unfinished, 
imperfect,  broken  here,  is  the  arc  of  the  great  circle  of  eternity. 


256   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

Ah,  but  a  man's  reach  should  exceed  his  grasp, 
Or  what's  heaven  for? 

It  was  a  diminished  household  that  in  the  fall  of  1885 
took  possession  of  the  house  Edward  had  provided  in  Ir- 
ving Street.  But  his  sister,  now  Mrs.  Dr.  Nims,  was  not 
far  oflf,  and  with  the  horse  and  buggy  which  she  drove  her- 
self, communication  was  frequent. 

It  took  a  little  time,  however,  to  overcome  the  trepida- 
tion one  felt  at  riding  in  Syracuse,  there  being  twenty 
miles  of  railway  running  through  it,  and  eighty-one  street 
crossings,  several  of  them  in  the  very  heart  of  the  city. 

As  Archdeacon  Farrar  was  in  our  country  giying  lec- 
tures upon  Browning,  Edward  was  able  to  arrange  for  an 
address  from  him  before  the  Syracuse  Browning  Club,  with 
the  pleasure  of  entertaining  him  as  a  guest. 

In  his  lecture,  which  every  one  enjoyed.  Dr.  Farrar  spoke 
in  the  most  glowing  terms  of  the  great  poet's  belief  in  the 
Incarnation,  quoting  striking  passages  in  illustration. 

The  next  morning,  at  the  request  of  Chancellor  Sims,  he 

addressed  the  students  of  the  Syracuse  University.     As  he 

left,  the  boys  struck  up  a  college  song. 

Here's  to  the  health  of  Canon  Farrar, 
Drink  her  down,  drink  her  down. 

The  Canon,  catching  the  drift,  smiled  pleasantly. 

When  speaking  with  him  of  his  total  abstinence  habits, 
he  remarked,  "I  was  brought  to  it  for  the  sake  of  my  poor 
of  St.  Margaret's  parish," — a  beautiful  instance  of  Christian 
charity. 

While  Edward  read  the  writings  of  Henry  Drummond 
with  deep  interest,  he  ventured  to  make  some  criticisms  on 
his  book,  Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  World.  He  did 
this  in  an  essay  which  was  read  before  the  Central  Associa- 
tion, and  afterwards  was  published  in  the  Andover  Review, 
July,  1886.  Previous  to  this,  however,  at  the  request  of 
Rev.  Mr.  Davis   of  Pulaski,  he  loaned  him  the  essay  in 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  257 


manuscript.  And  extracts  follow  from  the  letter  of  Mr. 
Davis  concerning  it: — 

"On  my  theory,  Mr.  Drummond  has  got  'the  cart  before 
the  horse,'  as  it  should  be  not  Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual 
World,  but  Spiritual  Law  in  the  Natural  World. 

"The  admirable  definition  you  give  of  law  as  'the  orderly 
working  of  a  supreme  will'  explains  the  whole  thing.  This, 
and  this  alone,  can  give  the  true  solution.  The  Spiritual 
underlies,  informs,  determines  the  Natural.  As  you  well 
say,  the  terms  'supernatural,  and  natural'  are  liable  to  mis- 
lead, and  that  physical  and  spiritual  are  better. 

"Please  accept  my  thanks  for  the  opportunity  of  perusing 
your  admirable  critique  which  has  given  me  so  great  satis- 
faction.'' 

Edward  entered  warmly  into  all  his  mother's  friendships 
and  desired  me  to  bring  my  early  correspondence  with 
Louisa  Payson,  the  older  sister  of  Elizabeth  Prentiss,  and 
the  wife  of  Prof.  Albert  Hopkins  of  Williams  College. 
After  her  death  her  sister  returned  my  letters,  and  in  the 
evenings  Edward  read  aloud  the  correspondence,  a  sort  of 
history  of  our  young,  romantic  days,  in  which  the  Willis 
family,  Richard  H.  Dana,  the  poet,  his  brother-in-law, 
Washington  Allston,  the  painter,  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson, 
George  Ripley  and  Margaret  Fuller,  editors  of  the  Dial,  and 
leaders  in  the  Brook  Farm,  Community,  were  prominent 
figures. 

Edward  was  desirous  that  his  mother  should  look  over 
and  select  from  her  family  and  other  correspondence,  the 
letters  suitable  for  preservation  and  put  them  into  folios 
which  he  procured  for  her. 

Edward  warmly  appreciated  the  generous  assistance, 
sympathetically  and  financially,  that  his  mother  had  re- 
ceived in  her  anti-tobacco  crusade  from  Elizur  Wright,  the 
well-known  reformer,  and  a  wideawake  member  of  the 
American  Forestry  Association.     One  of  his  chief  reasons 


258    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

for  making  his  home  in  the  beautiful  Middlesex  Fells  was 
to  preserve  the  forest  from  destruction  till  there  was  public 
spirit  enough  to  secure  it  as  a  park  for  Boston.  At  one  of 
his  Forest  Festivals,  in  pursuance  of  this  object,  and  which 
was  attended  by  prominent  men,  John  G.  Whittier  and 
Tlieodore  Weld  were  present  by  their  written  words. 

Whittier  says: — "With  my  whole  heart  I  rejoice  in  the 
movement  which  promises  much  for  the  beauty,  healthful- 
ness  and  true  wealth  of  the  country.  In  a  few  years  Boston 
and  the  suburbs  will  greatly  need  such  a  breathing  place  as 
the  Middlesex  Fells." 

And  Theodore  Weld  exhorts : — "Muster  all  you  can  to 
the  rescue  of  the  forests.  If  this  universal  vandalism  that 
sweeps  them  down  millions  of  acres  every  year  can't  be 
stopped,  and  that  speedily,  the  life  of  the  whole  nation  is 
sapped;  and  a  century  more  vi^ill  drag  it  to  death's  door. 
Blessings  on  your  Middlesex  Fells  Association!  Ring  the 
alarm  bells  long  and  loud." 

Edward  was  greatly  interested  in  the  personal  history  of 
Elizur  Wright,  who  was  an  avowed  Free  Thinker.  As  a 
young  man,  although  at  one  time  he  thought  he  was  con- 
verted, he  could  not  give  his  signature  to  the  Confessions  of 
Faith  common  in  those  days,  containing  harsh  presenta- 
tions of  certain  dogmas.  Yet  in  spite  of  this,  he  labored  as  a 
colporteur,  and  intended  to  be  a  minister.  But  "through  my 
studies,"  he  writes,  "I  was  led  into  the  Creed  Factories  of 
the  Old  World,  which  quite  knocked  the  bottom  out  of  my 
faith." 

Yet  this  man  so  lived  that  any  one  not  knowing  his  unbe- 
lief would  have  assumed  that  he  was  a  Christian.  He  was 
emphatically  a  doer  of  righteousness.  Said  Theodore  Weld, 
whose  name  is  everywhere  honored,  and  who  knew  him  in- 
timately for  a  life-time,  "If  there  be  a  person  whose  spirit, 
example  and  life  have  embodied  more  of  the  law  of  love,  the 
Golden  Rule  and  the  practical  unselfishness  of  the  Sermon 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  259 


on  the  Mount  than  was  lived  out  by  Elizur  Wright, — him 
or  her  /  have  never  seen." 

The  impression  he  made  on  his  ow^n  family  who  saw  him 
daily  was  such,  that  one  of  his  daughters  remarked  after  he 
had  passed  from  earth,  that  "if  there  was  a  hell  and  her 
father  had  been  sent  there, — of  one  thing  she  was  certain, 
and  that  was  that  he  had  made  a  heaven  of  it.'' 

Edward  also  knew  that  Mr.  Wright  read  with  genuine 
appreciation  books  suggested  to  him  by  a  friend,  such  as 
Munger's  Defence  of  the  Faith  and  that  incomparable  book 
by  Edmund  Sears, — The  Gospel  of  St.  John,  or  the  Heart  of 
Christ. 

On  all  accounts  he  was  desirous  to  become  acquainted 
with  Mr.  Wright,  so  that  he  was  quite  ready  to  accept  an  in- 
vitation to  make  a  visit  with  me  to  Middlesex  Fells,  and  pass 
the  night  there.  The  time  arranged  was  July,  1884,  when  he 
was  coming  on  to  attend  the  Bi-Centennial  at  Marblehead. 

Of  this  visit  his  daughter  writes : — 

"Father  drove  us  all  over'  his  Fells  in  the  afternoon,  and 
the  evening  we  spent  at  my  brother's.  When  we  got  home, 
and  there  was  no  one  tO'  care  for  the  horse,  your  son  insisted 
on  relieving  father  of  the  task.  Father  also  showed  him  his 
bird  books,  the  glacial  scratches,  and  the  action  of  the  ages 
upon  his  granite." 

Edward  greatly  enjoyed  this  visit.  The  impression  as  to 
his  religious  position  that  Elizur  Wright  made  upon  him 
is  indicated  by  the  following  letter  written  to  his  daughter  a 
little  more  than  a  year  after. 

Syracuse,  N.  Y.,  Nov.  25,  1885. 

My  Dear  Miss  Wright: — 

I  am  sure  you  know  that  the  news  which 
came  from  your  home  to  us  yesterday  has  filled  our  hearts  with 
sorrow.  I  found  my  mother  in  tears,  as  I  went  to  her,  and  the 
tears  are  still  in  her  heart.  Your  father  had  been  the  very  best  of 
friends,  and  our  path  will  be  the  more  lonely,  because  he  has  gone 
to  join  the  great  majority. 

But  you  know  to  us  there  is  a  deathless  hope  at  the  heart  of 


26o   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


every  such  sorrow.  Your  father  was  a  passionate  seeker  and  lov- 
er of  the  truth,  and  of  the  truth  he  must  be  gaining  ever  larger 
vision.  So  I  was  assured  when  my  own  father  left  us,  and  that  con- 
fident assurance  makes  the  separation  seem  but  brief.  I  delight  to 
think  of  your  father  as  in  the  hands  of  Him  who  is  Infinite  Love  as 
well  as  Perfect  Law,  and  whose  "eye  seeth  every  precious  thing." 

It  is  very  little  surely  that  we  can  see,  but  we  too  can  see  the 
preciousness  of  such  a  life  as  his,  and  God  sees  and  cares  as  much 
as  we  do,  at  least  as  much.  There  was  an  "inward  man"  within 
him  which  ripened  and  grew  ever  more  full  of  life  while  the  "out- 
ward man"  decayed  and  finally  perished.  It  was  that  "inward  man" 
that  we  all  loved,  and  it  is  that  so  precious  part  we  commit  to  God 
who  gave  it. 

Trusting  that  the  Divine  consolation  and  assurances  may  be 
with  you,  I  am 

Yours  in  sympathy, 

Edward  A.  Lawrence. 

Below  is  given  what  appeared  in  the  Syracuse  Daily 
Journal,  on  Dec.  14th,  1885: — 

Following  the  morning  sermon  in  Plymouth  Congregational 
church  yesterday,  the  pastor.  Rev.  Edward  A.  Lawrence,  addressed 
the  following  words  to  the  congregation: — 

"When  two  years  ago  you  called  me  to  come  to  this  church,  I 
was  led  to  see  in  the  call  the  voice  of  God,  and  though  bound  to 
a  loving  people,  by  common  trusts  and  sacrifices,  and  though  hav- 
ing then,  as  I  have  now,  the  consciousness  which  is  always  the 
deepest  sorrow  of  any  minister's  life  that  God's  precious  gifts  to 
man  are  contained  in  an  earthen  vessel,  I  went  forth  feeling  sure 
that  God  had  given  me  a  work  among  you;  that  he  had  given  me 
a  message  which  I  had  no  choice  but  to  fulfil.  Since  that  coming 
I  have  had  no  cause  to  regret  it.  I  have  felt  sure  that  God  is  do- 
ing his  own  work,  that  nothing  is  in  vain,  that  even  our  weakness 
he  will  use  for  the  glory  of  his  kingdom.  Now,  with  equal  clear- 
ness, reluctance  and  sorrow  I  am  led  to  the  conclusion  that  God 
calls  me  to  leave  you,  that  I  can  better  serve  his  kingdom  and  his 
church  by  going  from  you  than  by  staying  here.  I  therefore  have 
to  announce  that  at  the  proper  time  and  in  the  proper  way,  I  shall 
ask  you  to  accept  my  resignation  of  the  pastorate  of  Plymouth 
church,  to  take  efTect  between  the  1st  of  April  and  the  ist  of 
May.  I  have  told  you,  so  long  before,  that  we  may  make  the  best 
of  my  short  pastorate  and  that  by  the  spirit  of  God  we  may  so 
labor  together  that  there  shall  be  more  saved  and  more  brought 
into  the  love  of  Christ,  so  that  we  shall  know  well  that  our  last 
days  are  the  best.  I  therefore,  friends,  and  you  have,  indeed,  be- 
come friends  to  me,  entreat  you  to  make  way  for  the  Lord,  to  put 
away  all  things  that  can  hinder  His  coming,  to  deem  nothing  too 
great  a  cost,  that  so  be  Christ  may  be  glorified.  I  can  exhort  you 
in  no  better  way  than  in  the  words  of  the  Apostle,  'Let  no  corrupt 
communication  proceed  out  of  your  mouth,  but  that  which  is  good 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  261 


to  the  use  of  edifying,  that  it  may  minister  grace  unto  the  hearers, 
and  grieve  not  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  whereby  ye  are  sealed  unto 
the  day  of  redemption;  let  all  bitterness,  and  wrath,  and  anger,  and 
clamor  and  evil  speaking,  be  put  away  from  you  with  all  malice,  and 
be  ye  kind  to  one  another,  tender-hearted,  forgiving  one  another, 
even  as  God  for  Christ's  sake  hath  forgiven  you.'  " 

A  little  more  than  two  months  later  appeared  the  follow- 
ing, which  may  be  regarded  as  supplementary: — 

After  the  sermon  at  Plymouth  church,  yesterday  morning.  Rev.  E. 
A.  Lawrence,  the  pastor,  read  this  letter: 

In  accordance  with  my  announcement  of  December  13,  I  hereby 
tender  the  resignation  of  my  position  as  pastor  of  Plymouth  church, 
the  same  to  take  effect  at  the  close  of  the  last  Sunday  in  March.  I 
request  the  church  and  society  to  act  upon  this  resignation  at  their 
meetings  next  Wednesday,  and  also  to  call  a  council  to  ratify  their 
acceptance. 

For  the  sake  of  those  who  wish  to  know  the  reason  of  this 
course,  I  will  say  that  it  is  not  in  haste  or  discontent  or  simple  dis- 
couragement; not  from  any  personal  deprivation  or  personal  ex- 
perience, nor  for  any  personal  reason  whatever  that  this  step  has 
been  taken.  It  is  not  because  of  my  health,  which  was  never  better, 
nor  because  of  any  wish  to  leave  the  pastorate,  which  I  never 
loved  more,  nor  because  of  the  desire  for  travel,  which  I  hold 
subordinate  to  the  claims  of  home  work.  The  decisive  reasons 
which  have  led  to  this  action  relate  wholly  to  God's  kingdom, 
affecting  the  welfare  of  this  church  and  my  own  present  and  future 
usefulness.  It  has  been  made  plain  that  in  the  pastoral  relations 
existing  between  us  there  has  been  a  lack  of  certain  conditions 
which  are  essential  to  healthy  growth  and  aggressive  co-operation. 
This  discovery  has  left  but  one  path  open.  All  other  considerations 
have  had  only  symptomatic  and  confirmatory  force. 

I  do  not  find  it  easy  to  part  with  this  church  and  city.  In  even  so 
short  a  time  many  bonds  of  attachment  have  been  formed  which  it 
is  hard  to  break.  And  the  varied  experience  of  the  past  two  years 
has  made  it  seem,  on  the  whole,  the  most  profitable  period,  to  my- 
self, of  my  ministry.  For  Plymouth  church  I  have  had  large  de- 
sires. Would  that  I  could  have  done  more!  What  has  been  done 
and  sought  is  in  the  hands  of  God,  who  will  test  and  judge.  In 
leaving  you  I  have  no  deeper  longing  than  that  this  church  may 
be  thoroughly  fitted  to  deliver  God's  message  and  do  God's  work 
in  this  community,  which,  like  every  other,  can  be  saved  only  by 
the  self-forgetting  outreaching  sympathies  and  ministries  of  a 
church  full  of  vital  piety,  intensely  loyal  to  its  Lord,  agonizing  for 
the  salvation  of  the  world. 

EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE. 

To  Plymouth  Church  and  Society. 
Syracuse  Feb.  28,  1886. 


It  may  not  be  amiss  to  qtiote  a  few  passages  from  a  letter, 


262    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


by  Rev.  Dr.  Packard,  his  able  and  beloved  successor,  who 
knew  him  only  during  his  later  years: — 

He  impressed  me  as  a  wide-awake,  loving,  active  human  b'tipg, 
very  much  in  the  world  he  inhabited,  seeing  its  beauties  and  enter- 
ing into  them  simply  and  heartily.  A  scholar  by  instinct  and  habit, 
he  was  yet  an  out-of-doors  man.  A  very  companionable  man  he 
was,  could  tell  a  story  well,  and  was  always  himself,  whether  in  the 
humble  kitchen  of  the  working  woman,  or  in  the  parlors  at  the 
meetings  of  the  Browning  Club. 

As  a  Christian,  he  impressed  one  with  his  cheerful  faith  in  his 
Saviour  and  his  unselfish  devotion  to  him.  His  attitude  seemed  to 
be: — "I  am  serving  Christ  with  joy.  Come  and  join  me."  I  think 
that  to  an  unusual  degree  he  directed  his  life  towards  Christ,  rather 
than  towards  men  or  even  the  church.  As  a  minister,  he  had  no 
private  ends  to  serve  through  his  high  ofifice,  no  artifices  through 
which  he  made  it  serve  his  own  ambitions.  The  ministry  was  not 
an  instrument  of  his  own  power.  This  led  him  to  push  out  along 
new  lines  which  were  not  always  acceptable  to  his  fellow-workers. 
He  was  not  only  a  theorist  about  advanced  practical  work,  but  a 
practical  man  who  did  what  he  felt  might  be  done  and  ought  to  be 
done.  The  conditions  under  which  he  came  to  Plymouth  church 
were  peculiar,  and  while  he  had  wise  plans  for  the  good  of  his 
people,  he  could  not  accomplish  what  he  had  set  his  heart  upon. 
But  he  made  my  own  work  much  easier. 

Of  course  I  could  not  be  a  stranger  to  his  beautiful  devotion  to 
his  mother  and  sister, — a  devotion  which  no  contemplated  change 
in  his  own  condition  would  have  affected. 

Edward  was  never  more  active  in  his  labors  for  the 
church  and  the  community  than  after  his  announcement  of 
his  contemplated  resignation. 

He  had  always  been  greatly  interested  in  foreign  mis- 
sions, and  he  felt  that  he  could  devote  his  coming  freedom 
from  pastoral  cares  to  no  better  purpose  than  a  round-the- 
world  journey,  for  the  express  purpose  of  studying  the  mis- 
sion work  of  the  various  denominations.  But  he  would  not 
decide  on  this  without  the  hearty  concurrence  of  his  mother. 
Finding,  however,  that,  although  he  was  her  greatest  earth- 
ly reliance,  she  was  in  warm  sympathy  with  him,  he  entered 
on  a  careful  preparatory  study  of  the  broad  field. 

From  the  report  of  Edward's  last  morning  sermon  in  Ply- 
mouth Church,  a  few  extracts  are  given: — 

I  have  endeavored  to  say  the  needed  thing  at  the  needed  time,  dur- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  263 


ing  my  pastorate,  and  as  a  result,  I  have  very  little  to  say  of  the  past 

to-day.  The  main  thought  in  my  heart,  this  morning,  is  one  of 
gratitude  that  my  pastorate  closes  with  good  feeling.  I  am  thankful 
for  all  good  wishes  and  prayers  that  will  wing  me  on  my  way.    .  . 

There  are  in  every  church  things  that  are  dangerous,  things  which 
you  must  know  in  order  to  meet,  tendencies  more  than  results,  and 
I  charge  you  to  keep  your  eyes  fixed  upon  Christ.  Do  not  be  dis- 
couraged. Fight  against  the  obstacles  that  rise  up  to  check  God's 
work  in  his  church.  The  educative  and  evangelistic  work  must  go 
on  together.  Do  not  let  an  issue  form  between  the  social  and 
financial  and  spiritual  sections  of  the  church.  It  is  sometimes  diffi- 
cult to  keep  the  spiritual  in  the  front,  but  there  it  should  be  kept. 
The  struggle  of  this  century  is  what  might  be  termed  an  industrial 
and  social  struggle.  Competition  and  co-operation  in  business 
should  be  more  nearly  allied.  Perhaps  the  church  will  be  the  means 
of  showing  how  labor  and  capital  can  be  combined.  God  is  coming 
down  among  us. 

"In  the  evening,  Mr.  Lawrence  spoke  of  his  plans  in  his 
prospective  tour  around  the  v^orld,  'The  great  question  of 
all  ages  has  been  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  the  spread  of  his 
kingdom  in  missionary  work.  The  prospect  of  studying 
this  work  seems  opening  before  me  and  I  feel  in  leaving  you 
that  I  have  accepted  a  larger  commission, — one  that 
stretches  around  the  world,  not  given  by  man,  but  by  God, 
as  I  believe  he  leads  me.  My  view  of  the  missionary  work 
is  to  be  personal,  and  not  restricted  by  the  plans  of  any  one 
society.' " 

He  had  many  hearers  from  outside.  Among  these  was 
Mr.  Charles  D.  B.  Mills,  the  efificient  secretary  of  the  Syra- 
cuse Charitable  Organization  Society,  a  most  genial  and 
scholarly  man,  with  his  accomplished  wife.  They  were  both 
prominent  members  of  the  Browning  Club,  in  which  Ed- 
ward's interest  continued  to  the  last.  Their  letters,  showing 
how  warmly  they  appreciated  him,  were  most  grateful  to 
his  mother. 

Mr.  Mills  writes : — 

We  first  met  Mr.  Lawrence  soon  after  he  arrived  in  this  city  to 
take  the  pastorate  in  one  of  our  largest  and  most  flourishing 
churches.  He  was  promptly  invited  to  and  accepted  membership 
in  the  Browning  Club  here.  We  were  from  the  beginning  very 
favorably  impressed  by  the  appearance  of  this  young  minister.  In- 


264   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


vited  to  read  some  selections  from  the  poet,  he  surprised  and  de- 
lighted us  all  by  his  admirable  manner.  Such  naturalness,  simplicity, 
yet  finish  and  power,  the  accomplished  mastery  in  true  art,  and 
deep  impressions  withal,  showing  clearly  that  he  entered  into  and 
knew  the  thought  of  his  author,  and  had  full  ability  to  express  it. 
What  he  saw,  he  enabled  us  also  clearly  to  see;  what  Browning 
wrote  and  meant  to  say,  he  had  the  gift  to  read  and  to  render. 

We  found  also  that  in  the  conversations  and  the  discussions 
which  at  some  length  we  not  seldom  held,  he  was  well  at  home;  he 
had  considered  and  thought  the  way  out  to  proximate  solution  on 
certain  of  the  most  subtle  and  perplexing  themes.  Earnest,  can- 
did, open-minded,  he  appeared  a  catholic  and  progressive  spirit, 
yearning  most  of  all  and  everywhere  for  the  true  and  the  real. 

When  after  a  time  he  resigned  his  charge  in  this  city,  and  an- 
nounced his  decision  to  spend  some  time  in  making  a  circuit  of  the 
globe,  visiting  the  peoples  of  the  Orient  that  he  might  study  them 
in  their  manner,  their  type  of  civilization,  and  most  of  all  their  re- 
ligions, Mrs.  Mills  and  myself  repaired  to  his  church  in  which 
he  was  to  give  some  account  of  his  purposes.  He  said,  that  for  one 
thing,  while  looking  to  learn  what  Christianity  might  have  for 
the  other  faiths,  supplementing  them  where  they  lacked,  he  also 
desired  to  ascertain  what  those  others  might  have,  if  anything, 
wherefrom  to  supplement  Christianity.  It  seemed  to  us  an  eminent- 
ly catholic  and  worthy  purpose,  one  not  easy  to  find  in  an  evangeli- 
cal Protestant  clergyman. 

After  Mr.  Lawrence's  return,  I  did  not  see  him  on  any  occasion 
when  I  could  confer  with  him  freely  of  the  impression  he  received 
from  contact  with  the  Oriental  mind.  He  expressed  much  interest, 
however,  in  finding  and  conferring  with  the  Theosophists  of 
India,  and  the  more  eminent  and  representative  of  the  Buddhistic 
teachers.  I  always  believed  that  so  open  and  catholic  a  spirit  as 
he  was,  he  would  see  and  feel  the  superior  truth  and  beauty  found 
in  the  inculcations  of  that  exalted  saint  and  prophet  who  founded 
the  religion  that  has  been  so  widely  accepted  in  Asia,  and  for 
centuries  and  milleniums  now  has  borne  his  name. 

The  image  of  that  bright  and  exhilarating  face,  that  beaming, 
saintly  soul,  will  remain  with  all  that  knew  him,  a  hint  fresh  and 
everlasting  of  the  bounty  and  the  beauty  that  has  looked  down 
from  the  skies,  and  poured  its  blessing  upon  men. 

From  Mrs.  Harriet  A.  Mills: — 

I  shall  always  cherish  the  impression  that  ^Ir.  Lawrence  made 
upon  me  in  the  Browning  Club.  His  radiant  and  benignant  face 
is  still  fresh  and  distinct  as  when  it  beamed  and  glowed  while  he 
read  with  wonderful  expression  some  beautiful  passage,  or  inter- 
preted and  brought  out  some  of  the  deep,  hidden  meanings.  Then, 
too,  his  rulings  and  decisions  were  always  fair  and  wise.  That  was 
one  of  our  best  winters  when  he  presided.  Thankful  too  I  am 
that  we  heard  him  on  that  last  memorable  evening  in  Plymouth 
church.    It  was  pathetic  to  think  of  his  going  of?  so  far.    But  his 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  265 


enthusiasm  and  broad,  aesthetic  spirit  inspired  with  hope  and 
cheer. 

In  his  purpose  to  visit  missions  of  all  denominations,  Ed- 
ward included  the  Catholic  Missions.  He  therefore  sought 
introductions  from  Catholic  friends,  and  among  them  from 
Father  Metcalf,  with  whom  he  had  become  acquainted  in 
Rome.  He  finally  obtained  what  he  desired  and  thus  was 
enabled  to  accomplish  his  purpose. 

Abundance  of  evidence  came  to  Edward  of  the  warm  re- 
gard in  which  he  was  held  by  his  ministerial  brethren  in  the 
state. 

Of  this  evidence  only  one  instance  is  given  in  a  single 
passage  from  a  letter  to  him  by  Rev.  Mr.  Eastman,  at  that 
time  in  Canandaigua: — 

"I  am  pained  beyond  power  to  tell  at  the  thought  of  los- 
ing you.  But  I  do  hope  we  may  have  you  still  in  New  York 
state." 

After  Edward's  departure,  Mr.  Eastman's  wife.  Rev. 
Annis  Eastman  writes: — 

"We  all  remember  your  son  with  gratitude  and  love.  He 
made  a  lasting  impression  upon  the  children  and  on  a 
chance  caller.  He  was  my  ideal  of  a  Christian  man.  His 
prayer  at  morning  worship  in  our  home  was  so  simple  and 
direct,  like  the  natural  speech  of  a  loving  son  to  a  father, 
that  it  would  hardly  have  seemed  strange  if  God's  voice  had 
been  heard  in  reply. 

"But  for  you,  dear  friend,  what  can  I  say?  You  are  rich 
is  memories  and  hopes,  but  the  days  as  they  come  and  go 
must  be  heavy  indeed." 

Writes  a  well-known  clergyman : — 

"At  an  anniversary  of  the  church  about  the  time  of  Dr. 
Lawrence's  departure  from  earth,  the  one  thing  which  was 
made  more  prominent,  perhaps,  than  anything  else  was  the 
fact  that  Plymouth  Church  had  sent  out  several  colonies, 
and  become  the  mother  of  flourishing  churches. 


266    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


"I  knew  Dr.  Lawrence  intimately  during  his  pastorate  in 
Syracuse,  and  a  more  transparent,  beautiful  Christian  char- 
acter I  believe  it  would  be  impossible  to  find  in  the  ministry 
or  out  of  it." 

Edward's  mother  had  gathered  from  far  and  near  a  large 
marine  mail  for  his  three  weeks'  passage  in  a  Pacific  steam- 
er, which  she  smuggled  into  his  trunk.  These  were  sorted 
in  little  parcels  and  the  day  on  which  they  were  to  be  read 
marked  upon  them.  There  was  a  ladies'  day,  a  ministers' 
day,  a  children's  day  and  a  deacons'  day,  the  last,  by  ar- 
rangement to  be  opened  on  a  day  when  at  the  prayer-meet- 
ing in  Plymouth  Church  he  would  be  particularly  remem- 
bered. 

For  his  bodily  comfort,  she  made  him  a  nightgown, 
closed  at  the  bottom  like  a  bag  to  protect  him  against  mos- 
quitoes and  other  insect  foes.  He  was  also  supplied  with  a 
case  containing  needles,  thread,  and  all  the  appliances  ne- 
cessary for  doing  his  own  mending. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


THE  TOUR  AROUND  THE  WORLD. 

I  do  not  dare  to  pray 
For  winds  to  waft  me  on  my  way, 
But  blow  it  east,  or  blow  it  west. 
The  wind  that  blows,  that  wind  is  best. 

— Caroline  A.  Mason. 

An  account  of  the  gathering  of  the  deacons  at  the  station 
with  other  friends  was  brought  back  to  the  mother  by 
Nelson  H.  Strong,  a  dear  friend  to  whose  care  Edward 
committed  her.  It  was  by  an  evening  train  that  he  started 
on  his  westward  way.  And  there  came  the  next  morning 
from  Rochester  a  postal  card  written  on  the  cars: — 

En  route,  8.05  P.  M. 
I  cannot  realize  it  and  I  shall  not  try  to.  I  am  going  on  a  short  trip 
to  California, — my  long-delayed  visit.  Let  the  rest  come  after  that. 
Mr.  Strong  is  a  treasure  and  will  be  as  true,  I  am  sure,  as  the  beauti- 
ful compass  he  gave  me.  Those  were  precious  lines  from  you.  You 
are  a  brave  woman,  and  will  always  be  so.  I  am  sure.  It  was  a  cor- 
dial group  at  the  station. 

From  Ned. 

From  the  letters  and  journal  descriptive  of  Edward's 
journeyings  only  a  few  scattered  passages  can  be  given: — 

Here  I  am  in  great,  bright,  wicked  Chicago,  about  three-quarters 
of  whose  700,000  inhabitants  are  actually  foreigners  by  birth.  Yes- 
terday I  visited  the  Board  of  Trade  and  saw  the  intense  excitement, 
the  jargon,  the  Babel  of  Mammon,  the  worship  of  Lord  Wheat,  its 
devotees  flinging  out  their  prayers  with  their  fingers,  the  uplifted 
hand  of  their  devotion,  a  finger  pointing  for  each  eighth  of  a  penny, 
more  or  less,  a  bushel.  How  shall  such  a  city  be  ruled?  What  a 
problem ! 

From  Utah. 

I  wonder  how  near  our  Eastern  people  are  coming  to  see  what  I 
have  never  before  fully  understood,  that  the  secret,  central  evil  of 
Mormonism  is  not  polygamy  but  hierarchy,  and  that  the  iniquitous 
system  can  be  extirpated  only  by  measures  which  shall  break  up  the 
authority  and  destroy  the  influence  of  the  priesthood.    Polygamy  is 


268   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


the  cement  to  hold  Mormons  together.  It  is  the  bond  which  impli- 
cates them  in  a  common  guilt  and  crime,  uniting  in  a  common  de- 
fence those  liable  to  common  penalties.  It  raises  a  war-cry,  a  quasi- 
religious  banner,  opposition  to  which  may  be  called  persecution,  thus 
diverting  attention  from  the  real  issue  and  source  of  danger. 

All  the  same,  it  is  to-day  only  a  pretext.  Mormonism  is  a  system 
of  politico-ecclesiastical  despotism.  Within  its  own  territory  it  can 
tolerate  no  other  sway.  And  it  aspires  to  extend  that  territory,  first, 
over  the  whole  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  region,  and  then  far  beyond. 
The  claims  of  the  Pope  of  Rome  to  temporal  sovereignty  are  not  so 
exclusive  as  those  of  the  Mormon  priesthood.  These  claims  conflict 
with  the  very  spirit  of  our  American  institutions.  They  add  priestly 
tyranny  to  the  evils  of  political  demagogism.  They  can  be  overcome 
only  by  attacking  the  hierarchy  in  its  citadel.  Remove  all  political 
power  from  every  adherent  to  a  polygamous  system,  and  it  must 
break  down  or  depart. 

En  route  from  Santa  Barbara  to  Los  Angeles. 

Where  do  you  think  we  breakfasted?  At  a  private  ranch  owned  and 
occupied  by  the  Del  Valle  family, — among  the  earliest  original  Span- 
ish settlers.  We  seemed  to  have  dropped  down  into  Spain.  We  had 
a  good  breakfast,  waited  on  by  the  sister-in-law  of  Senator  Del  Valle, 
with  half  a  dozen  young  Spanish  girls  floating  around  as  if  they  had 
just  dropped  down  from  the  Middle  Ages. 

But  there  was  an  interest  about  the  place,  deeper  than  all  one  saw. 
This  ranch  is  the  scene  of  Ramona.  "Yes,"  they  said;  "Mrs.  Jack- 
son spent  half  an  hour  here  one  day," — evidently  aggrieved  that  she 
did  not  stay  longer  and  see  more.  "Have  you  read  the  book?"  "No; 
she  sent  us  a  copy,  but  we  haven't  read  it  yet." 

To  me  all  the  wonderful  scenes  of  that  creative  imagination  came 
up  vividly,  and  gave  the  whole  a  thrilling  charm. 

San  Francisco. 

It  is  certain  that  the  attempt  to  tyrannize  over  the  employers  of 
California  by  the  boycott  conspiracy  is  producing  a  widespread  re- 
action, especially  in  the  interior,  where  the  mind  of  the  common 
people  is  more  truly  voiced  by  the  press.  Several  country  newspa- 
pers are  beginning  to  denounce  the  anti-Chinese  boycott  with  vigor 
and  success. 

The  cry  of  philanthropy  is  sometimes  raised.  Chinese  labor  is  called 
serf-labor.  I  cannot  see  that  this  cry  springs  from  any  special  care 
for  the  Chinese.  It  certainly  is  as  foolish  as  it  is  false.  These 
"aliens"  are  in  no  sense  serfs,  nor  do  they  belong  to  any  system  of 
peonage.  Their  passage  money  is  often  advanced  to  be  repaid  in  in- 
stalments. They  frequently  labor  under  contract,  which  may  be  op- 
pressive. But  the  philanthropic  way  is  to  stop,  not  the  Chinese  but 
the  contracts.  A  strict  prohibition  of  the  importation  of  contract 
labor,  if  enforced  along  this  coast  as  well  as  along  the  Atlantic,  would 
remedy  many  evils. 

More  genuine  is  the  cry  of  patriotism,  which  objects  to  them  be- 
cause, while  they  crowd  out  our  own  people,  they  are  not  proper  im- 
migrants, but  merely  imported  laborers,  who  do  not  become  citizens 
or  residents,  and  form  here  no  homes  or  home  ties.  This  undoubted 
fact,  if  a  loss  and  an  evil  on  the  one  side,  is  a  safeguard  on  the  other, 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


269 


against  their  too  great  predominance  on  the  coast.     But  it  intensifies 

the  sense  of  their  aloofness  and  incongruity  with  us,  and  however 
much  it  ignores  the  actual  benefits  they  confer,  must  be  taken  account 
of  in  estimating  pubHc  opinion. 

These  elements  then, — race  antipathy,  competitive  jealousy,  social- 
istic schemings,  political  ambitions  and  local  irritation — are  the  main 
factors  in  the  present  agitation.  They  may  take  the  noblest  form  of 
moral  reprobation,  of  patriotic  apprehension  and  zeal,  of  statesman- 
like precaution  and  missionary  endeavor  for  the  good  of  both  races, 
or  they  may  flow  forth  in  the  ravings  of  demagogues  and  stump  ora- 
tors, in  the  resolutions  of  anti-Chinese,  non-partisan  leagues,  in  the 
boycott  and  the  mob  violence  as  exhibited  in  various  places.  What- 
ever form  they  take  they  are  united  in  a  most  incongruous  opposition 
to  the  coming  and  continuance  of  the  Chinese,  combining  to  make 
public  opinion  flow  strongly  in  one  direction. 

In  gauging  public  opinion  here,  however,  it  would  be  a  great  mis- 
take not  to  take  account  of  another  element,  not  anti-Chinese,  numer- 
ically small,  but  morally  very  strong.  It  is  composed  of  those  who, 
however  they  may  agree  with  one  claim  or  another  as  to  the  danger 
or  undesirableness  of  this  people,  yet  feel  themselves  bound  to  oppose 
the  present  ruling  sentiments  and  movements  as  mischievous,  un- 
American  and  unchristian.  Men  in  the  East  are  supposed  to  have 
zeal  without  knowledge  on  this  subject.  But  nowhere  as  in  the 
West,  have  I  heard  appreciation  and  admiration  for  the  Chinese  ex- 
pressed, or  indignation  at  the  movement  against  them.  The  leaders 
of  the  boycott  declare  that  they  are  opposed  by  the  churches  and  the 
ministers.  Many  others  oppose  them,  openly  or  secretly,  selfishly,  be- 
cause they  want  cheap  labor,  or  unselfishly,  because  they  want 
justice. 

If  the  agitation  of  this  Chinese  question  shall  bring  the  nation  to  a 
more  careful  supervision  and  restriction  of  immigration  along  our 
whole  coast  and  from  all  foreign  countries,  it  will  not  have  been  with- 
out benefit.  A  swimmer,  who  would  save  a  drowning  man,  must  not 
permit  him  to  clasp  him  too  tightly,  or  he  will  be  drawn  down  him- 
self, and  both  will  be  lost.  If  this  nation  would  save  other  sinking 
peoples,  it  must  not  be  hampered  by  those  it  would  help. 

Before  leaving  San  Francisco  Ned  sent  a  telegram  to 
Syracuse: — "May  12th,  1886.  Just  sailing.  All  well.  Fine 
weather.   Bid  Mother  goodbye." 

Only  gleanings  from  his  letters  can  be  given,  the  one  that 
follows  being  sent  quite  early,  in  reply  to  one  that  came  in 
his  marine  mail  on  that  day : — 

S.  S.  Belgic,  Pacific  Ocean,  May  18,  1886. 
My  dear  Miss  Leyden : — 

On  this,  the  seventh  day  out,  the  mail-carrier  has 
just  brought  to  me  your  letter  among  eight  others.  It  seems  a  capi- 
tal thing  for  one  to  start  for  the  Pacific,  when  under  the  charge  of 
such  a  grand  postmistress  as  has  been  appointed  for  the  Marine.  I 
do  not  try  to  reply  to  most  of  my  correspondents,  but  include  the 


270   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


thought  of  them  in  the  letters  I  send  to  my  mother.  But  in  your  case 
the  thought  that  perhaps  from  this  wide  expanse  of  ocean  I  can  reach 
out  and  help  a  friend,  is  too  grateful  for  me  not  to  yield  to  it. 

If,  as  you  say,  any  words  of  mine  have  aided  you,  it  must  have 
been  because  they  were  the  outcome  of  an  experience  in  which  God 
has  been  trying  to  teach  me  things  I  am  very  slow  in  learning,  but 
hope  not  to  forget. 

I  know  and  have  felt  the  difficulties  of  the  two  points  you  mention. 
And  I  am  so  indifferent  to  the  form  of  any  doctrine,  I  so  thoroughly 
believe  that  the  whole  Christian  faith  is  implicitly  contained  in  the 
heart's  acceptance  of  Jesus  as  Saviour  and  as  Lord,  that  I  should  say 
"You  have  the  true  Apostle's  Creed,  if  you  have  that."  I  am  glad  to 
remember  that  in  the  traditional  creed  the  emphasis  is  placed  not  on 
the  subordinate  items  which  make  up  the  sum  of  his  life,  but  on  the 
Person  himself,  through  whom  I  am  redeemed.  If  I  know  and  follow 
him,  he  will  teach  me  all  I  need  to  know  about  himself  and  as  I  need 
to  know  it.  With  that  personal  faith  I  am  a  Unitarian  in  the  true 
sense  that  I  worship  one  only  God ;  a  Trintarian  because  I  learn  how 
the  Heavenly  Father  makes  himself  known  in  his  Son  and  works 
through  his  Holy  Spirit. 

And  I  believe  thoroughly  in  the  resurrection  of  the  body.  If  you 
take  that  statement  in  the  light  of  the  fifteenth  chaper  of  First  Corin- 
thians, I  have  no  doubt  you  will  say  just  the  same.  It  means  just 
what  Paul  means,  nothing  more. 

There  was  a  time  when  some  in  the  church  tried  ,to  secure  the  af- 
firmation of  the  resurrection  of  the  flesh  (carww).  But  the  church 
does  not  affirm  it.  The  Bible  denies  it.  On  the  other  hand  there 
has  been  a  tendency  to  think  of  the  future  existence  as  a  disembodied 
state,  formless,  inorganic,  unconnected  with  this  life,  as  spiritual  but 
without  spiritual  substance  or  embodiment.  This,  too,  the  Church 
denies.  "The  end  of  God's  ways  is  embodiment,"  says  an  old  mystic, 
and  the  Incarnation  of  our  Lord  says  the  same  thing.  Whatever 
may  be  thought  of  an  intermediate  state,  concerning  which  the  Creed 
affirms  nothing,  I  believe  that  the  resurrection  will  be  of  an  embodied 
soul,  and  that  each  soul  will  have  its  own  body,  spiritual  in  substance, 
the  body  which  it  has  shaped  for  itself,  as  even  our  material  bodies 
are  more  and  more  the  expression  and  creation  of  ourselves.  It  is 
through  faith  in  this  embodiment  that  we,  by  analogy,  reach  out  into 
that  better  state,  anticipate  recognition,  association,  and  heavenly  in- 
tercourse. Doubtless  many  have  repeated  the  creed  without  such 
thoughts  attached  to  it,  but  quite  as  clearly  that  is  the  Biblical  truth 
the  church  has  aimed  at  in  those  words,  and  despite  obscurations  and 
aberrations  and  false  emphasis  has  been  ever  more  clearly  discerning. 

Your  words  have  been  full  of  cheer  and  encouragement.  They  will 
help  me  to  be  faithful  to  the  opportunity  I  have.    With  best  wishes, 

I  am  ,  .  , 

Sincerely  your  friend. 

Edward  A.  Lawrence. 

Passages  are  given  from  a  very  few  of  the  letters  in  Ed- 
ward's marine  mail. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


271 


From  Rev.  Dr.  George  B.  Spalding,  pastor  of  the  First 
Presbyterian  church  in  Syracuse: — 

"I  feel  how  great  a  loss  I  am  to  suffer  by  your  absence. 
I  have  come  to  admire  and  love  you  without  having 
really  possessed  you.  I  know  that  could  we  have  been 
brought  together  we  should  have  fellowshiped  in 
a  very  dear  way.  I  want  you  to  feel  all  through  your 
voyaging  and  journeying  that  you  have  done  a  noble  and 
enduring  work  in  this  city.  May  your  months  ahead  be 
full  of  dear,  satisfying  memories  and  dawning  hopes  which 
shall  be  most  bright  in  fulfilment.  God  spare  your  dear 
mother  to  welcome  you  back  as  true  and  as  loyal  a  son  as 
ever  blest  a  loving  mother." 

Bishop  F.  D.  Huntington  writes  Edward: — 

"A  good  story  is  told  of  a  clergyman,  who  met  a  man 
loudly  declaiming  against  foreign  missions.  'Why,'  said  the 
objector,  'doesn't  the  church  look  after  the  heathen  at 
home?'  'We  do!'  replied  the  clergyman  quietly,  and  gave 
the  man  a  tract. 

"I  hope  your  observations  will  enable  you  to  refute  some 
of  the  exaggerated  estimates  of  the  value  of  the  Eastern 
Religions  in  comparison  with  the  faith  of  Christ." 

From  Deacon  Edward  F.  Parmelee: — 

"I  thank  God  that  he  ever  called  you  to  become  pastor  of 
Plymouth  church.  I  thank  him  that  through  you  he  has 
helped  me  through  some  severe  trials.  Our  inter- 
course has  been  very,  very  pleasant.  But  you  certainly 
know  my  heart  better  than  I  am  able  to  show  it  to  you  by 
writing.  May  God's  richest  blessings  attend  you  during 
your  journey  and  throughout  your  life!" 
From  Prof.  J.  Scott  Clark: — 

The  most  natural  theme  for  such  a  letter  is  that  of  the  help  which 
has  come  to  me  through  your  society  and  your  ministrations.  The 

most  effective  method  of  teaching  is  doubtless  by  example,  and  you 
have  thus  taught  me  two  lessons :  ist.  The  beauty  and  blessedness 
of  patient  and  cheerful  submission  to  the  Father's  will,  however  much 


272         REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


it  costs.  2d.  The  gospel  of  vigorous  work.  Whenever  I  find  myself 
getting  lazy,  I  think  of  those  cool  October  mornings,  when  the  bath- 
room used  to  resound  to  some  heroic  air,  while  you  went  to  your 
early  work  with  a  vigor  that  produced  its  legitimate  results  in  health 
of  body  and  health  of  mind.  Your  methods  of  work  throughout  have 
been  an  inspiratiou  to  me. 

In  our  university  also  we  feel  that  we  have  lost  a  friend  and 
helper. 

From  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles  D.  B.  Mills: — 

Your  stay  in  our  city  has  been  all  too  brief  for  the  wishes  of  your 
friends,  but  long  enough  to  permit  the  formation  of  ties  of  attach- 
ment to  yourself  that  are  strong  and  lasting. 

We  felicitate  you  upon  the  opportunities  you  will  enjoy  for  so  wide 
and  careful  observation  upon  man.  The  history  of  the  world  has 
laid  open  new  avenues  of  thought,  and  has  enriched  our  language 
with  a  word  which  never  passed  the  lips  of  Socrates  or  Plato,  or 
Aristotle, — mankind.  More  and  more  are  we  coming  to  find  the 
oneness  of  humanity.  .  .  Never  before,  perhaps,  could  the  force  of 
the  sentiment  expressed  by  Terence  be  so  deeply  and  widely  felt,  "I 
esteem  everything  human  akin  to  me." 

Wishing  you  all  furtherance  and  blessing  in  your  extended  and 
varied  journeys,  we  remain,  dear  sir. 

Yours  in  all  friendship. 
From  Mrs.  Thurber,  wife  of  Dr.  Thurber,  formerly  of 
Syracuse,  but  now    pastor  of    the  American  Church  in 
Paris: — 

Lest  you  may  be  inclined  to  study  Browning  too  closely  on  your 
journey,  I  send  this  riddle,  which  you  will  find  especially  appropriate 
for  an  ocean  trip. 
Wishing  you  everj'thing  that  is  good,  I  am 

Your  sincere  friend, 

Sarah  W.  Thurber. 

God  made  Adam  out  of  dust, 
But  thought  it  best  to  make  me  first ; 
So  I  was  made  before  the  man 
To  answer  God's  most  holy  plan. 

My  body  He  did  make  complete, 
Without  arms,  legs,  or  feet, 
My  ways  and  actions  did  control. 
Yet  fashioned  me  without  a  soul. 

A  living  being  I  became, 

And  Adam  gave  me  soon  my  name. 

Then  from  his  presence  I  withdrew, 
Nor  more  of  Adam  ever  knew. 

I  did  my  maker's  laws  obey. 
From  them  I  never  went  astray. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


273 


Thousands  of  miles  I  run  each  year, 
But  seldom  on  the  earth  appear. 

Now  God  in  me  did  something  see, 
And  put  a  living  soul  in  me. 
But  soon  of  me  my  God  did  claim, 
And  took  from  me  that  soul  again. 

Now  as  soon  as  the  soul  had  fled 
I  was  the  same  as  when  first  made . 
Without  arms,  feet,  or  soul, 
I  travel  now  from  pole  to  pole. 

I  labor  hard  both  day  and  night. 
To  fallen  man  I  give  great  light. 
Thousands  of  people,  young  and  old, 
Shall,  by  my  death,  great  light  behold. 

No  fear  of  death  shall  trouble  me. 
For  happiness  or  woe  I  ne'er  shall  see. 
To  heaven  I  shall  never  go. 
Or  to  the  grave,  or  hell  below.* 

S.  S.  Bclgic,  jNIay  23rd.  i»86. 

Aly  own  dear  Sister: — 

I  have  found  both  your  letter  and  the  doctor's 
in  my  marine  mail,  which  I  consider  one  of  the  greatest  efforts  and 
successes  of  mother's  life.  Every  morning,  right  after  breakfast,  I 
wave  my  wand  and  a  group  of  dear  friends  gathers  round  me,  with 
whom  I  converse  with  great  delight. 

May  24th. 

The  ship  is  pitching  a  good  deal,  but  the  passengers  have  become 
skilled  in  various  curves  and  angles.  It  affords  a  good  geometrical 
study  to  watch  the  diverse  figures  formed  by  these  peripatetics.  One 
has  to  brace  himself  up  with  all  his  might  to  avoid  embracing  every 
wandering  post  or  person  that  comes  within  his  reach. 

Our  most  distinguished  passenger  is  the  returning  Chinese  min- 
ister, who  rejoices  in  the  euphonious  name  of  Cheng  Tsao  Ju.  All 
his  greatness  does  not  save  his  excellency  from  the  common  fate  of 
mortals,  and  he  spends  most  of  his  time  in  his  stateroom ;  when  the 
sun  shines  he  also  deigns  to  shine  on  us.  When  he  emerges  I  bow 
to  him,  which  bow  he  benignantly  returns.  He  extends  his  hand;  I 
take  it  and  point  to  the  sky,  saying,  "A  pleasant  day !"  He  looks  per- 
plexed. "Are  you  feeling  better  to-day?"  and  significantly  place  my 
hand  on  the  spot  where  the  heart  is  supposed  to  be.  He  understands, 
nods  graciously,  and  our  intercourse  is  ended.  With  practice,  you 
see.  I  shall  undoubtedly  learn  Chinese.  Our  mandarin  never  appears 
at  the  dining  table,  and  report  has  it  that  he  does  not  care  to  ex- 
hibit his  chopsticks.  It  is  a  question  whether  fingers  were  made  be- 
fore chopsticks,  which  seem  almost  to  have  grown  ready-made,  and 
lain  in  waiting  for  this  most  ancient  race. 

♦Answer  given  at  the  end  of  the  chapter. 


274    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


For  dinner,  in  addition  to  rice,  which  appears  at  every  meal,  the 
Chinese  have  meats  of  various  kinds,  especially  sausages  and  stews, 
brought  on  in  open  pans  or  pails.  In  the  right  hand  is  held  the  chop- 
sticks. Then  in  the  hollow  of  the  left  hand  is  held,  with  the  utmost 
adroitness,  a  small  china  bowl,  half  filled  with  rice,  and  lifted  up 
close  under  the  chin.  Now  operations  begin.  Both  chopsticks  fly 
into  the  meat  dish  and  fish  about  for  some  mouth-filling  fragment. 
You  may  use  your  chopstick  like  a  spoon  or  like  tongs,  usually  the 
latter.  With  the  greatest  dexterity  a  morsel  is  caught  up  in  the  pin- 
cers, then  transferred  to  the  sauce  bowl,  where  it  is  immersed  in 
some  savory  liquid,  then  whipped  up  to  the  chin  bowl,  where  the  dry 
rice  catches  the  drippings,  and  finally,  after  all  these  journeys,  lodged 
within  the  long  expectant  mouth.  This  process  is  repeated  for  every- 
thing, except  that  now  and  then  the  rice  bowl  is  brought  close  to  the 
mouth,  and  with  the  two  sticks  turned  into  a  shovel,  rice  is  thrust  in 
with  a  sort  of  sucking  sound,  as  if  being  drawn  into  a  vortex.  It  is 
a  very  interesting  spectacle.  You  see  the  advantage  of  utensils  which 
can  be  used  with  equal  ease  as  shovel,  tongs,  or  poker. 

My  dear  Mother:— 

In  the  mail  called  Children's  Day  my  cloud  vision 
was  like  one  of  Corregio's  paintings  of  cherub  faces  shining  out  of 
the  heavens.  Every  day  showed  more  and  more  how  wide  a  swath 
had  been  mown  to  bring  letters  from  so  many  friends.  Sometimes  I 
had  nine  at  once.  But  the  supply  held  out,  though  I  was  very  good 
and  never  looked  ahead. 

On  Ladies'  Day,  a  company  of  delightful  women  passed  the  morn- 
ing with  me,  and  with  them  was  that  charming  picture  of  my  little 
friend, — the  Cherubic,  looking  as  if  she  had  been  standing  under  the 
Sistine  Madonna.  I  seem  to  see  the  wings.  My  daily  supply  of  let- 
ters was  the  great  feature  of  the  voyage;  indeed,  I  thirk  I  would  al- 
most cross  the  Pacific  for  the  purpose  of  getting  such  a  mail. 

Every  day  I  became  more  and  more  attached  to  the  sea,  which 
spoke  out  its  daily  messages.  It  does  not  seem  to  me  "cruel,"  but 
very  grand  and  strong  and  kind,  with  a  tenderness  even  in  its  wrath. 
The  wonders  of  the  ship-life  never  diminished.  A  whole  world  in  a 
narrow  space !  We  manufacture  our  own  electric  light,  our  own 
ice,  our  own  water,  as  well  as  our  own  propelling  power. 
Never,  for  one  second,  was  there  a  pause  in  the  throb  of 
the  mighty  engine.  But,  at  length,  out  of  the  great  blank, 
that  had  faced  us  so  many  days,  loomed  up  the  outlines  of  the  vast, 
mysterious  continent  of  Asia.  Soon  we  anchored  at  Yokohama, 
making  the  quickest  voyage  that  has  been  known  by  four  hours  and 
twenty-eight  minutes. 

Tokio,  June  23d,  1886. 

Having  been  invited  by  ]\Ir.  Masurzima,  a  Japanese  friend,  and  a 
bachelor  like  myself,  to  his  Club,  we  jogged  along  in  our  jinrikishas 
towards  the  suburbs.  Off  in  a  quiet  corner,  on  the  edge  of  the  hill, 
embowered  with  trees,  stood  the  quaint  little  Japanese  house  which 
belongs  to  the  Club.  "I  entertain  my  Japanese  friends,"  said  my 
host,  "at  the  Tokio  Club,  and  my  European  friends  at  this  Japanese 
Club."  We  had  the  whole  house,  with  its  much-matted,  baby-house 
rooms,  to  ourselves, — two  birds  in  a  cage.  Their  custom  permits  each 
member  to  have  the  use  of  the  house  one  night  in  a  month. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


275 


We  first  had  the  tea  ceremony,  where  a  picturesque,  demure  little 
maiden,  with  astonishing  headgear,  vermillion-dyed  lips  and  flowing 
robes,  made  tea  as  if  she  were  performing  mass.  With  reverent 
prostrations  to  the  lacquered  table,  with  stately  impartation  of  the 
water  into  the  teapot,  with  awful  dignity  in  the  folding  of  her  napkin 
every  time  she  wiped  dry  the  long,  wooden  mustard  spoon,  held  at 
precisely  such  an  angle,  after  it  had  been  dipped  into  the  divine  bev- 
erage, with  all  this  and  more,  she  fairly  took  my  breath  away.  I  felt 
a  new  reverence  for  a  cup  of  tea,  and  drank,  with  emotions  of  awe, 
the  solitary  cup  which  all  these  mysterious  arrangements  had  pro- 
duced, and  which  was  so  strong  it  almost  lifted  me  to  the  ceiling — a 
low  ceiling,  remember.  Then  I  watched  the  same  process  repeated 
in  the  same  cup  for  my  host,  and  was  thankful  there  were  not  twenty 
of  us. 

After  this  we  adjourned  to  another  room  where,  sitting  on  mats, 
we  attacked  the  viands  as  they  came  in.  I  tried  them  all : — soups  to 
begin  and  end  with,  endless  cups  of  tea  all  along,  hot  saki,  baked 
fish,  chopped  duck,  rice,  radish,  pickles,  etc.,  all  in  little  bowls,  and  all 
with  chopsticks.  Yes,  and  the  stately  little  maiden  lost  her  gravity 
as  she  saw  me  use  those  implements.  But  then,  I  set  her  the  ex- 
ample, and  I  am  sure  you  would  have  laughed  to  see  me.  There  were 
other  infusions  which  neither  I  nor  my  host  understood,  but  we  tested 
them  all. 

Meantime  the  talk  ran  along  on  politics,  law,  society,  women,  reli- 
gion. My  friend  was  in  all  matters  an  outspoken  Independent,  and 
his  words  were  refreshing. 

From  a  letter  to  Mr.  Ewers: — 

Well,  this  is  a  queer  little  folk !  And  they  have  so  many  tongues 
and  characters  that  they  don't  know  what  to  do  with  them.  If  I  stay, 
it  will  be  to  organize  a  society  for  the  prevention  of  cruelty  to  chil- 
dren, which  will  stop  their  making  scholars  learn  those  dreadful 
Chinese  characters.  No  wonder  their  eyes  are  set  crooked,  that  they 
do  everything  backward,  and  have  birds  without  song,  flowers  with- 
out fragrance,  blossoms  without  fruit.  This  must  all  come  from  the 
use  of  the  Chinese  characters.  But  they  are  Romanizing  their  books 
— and  all  will  be  changed. 

I  am  lingering  in  Tokio  to  let  things  soak  into  me.  Do  not  under- 
stand by  that,  however,  that  it  is  wet  here,  for  this  is  a  dry  season. 
Next  week  I  shall  be  struggling  along  through  Central  Japan,  in  a 
baby-cart,  with  about  a  hundred  Japanese  words,  and  a  slave  to  draw 
me. 

To  his  mother: — 

I  can  seldom  understand  the  people,  but  can  usually  make  them  un- 
derstand me,  which  is  more  important.  And  I  sometimes  can  see  and 
enjoy  my  own  mistakes.  Yesterday,  looking  at  some  little  combs,  I 
asked, — "Ikura?" — (how  much).  "Go  rin."  Five  mills,  i.  e..  one- 
half  a  cent.)  "Go  ri?"  said  I,  interrogatively,  to  make  sure,  whereat 
the  damsel  giggled,  repeating  my  words,  while  the  mother,  expectant 
of  a  purchase,  frowned  and  expostulated.  But  it  was  too  late ;  I  saw 
my  mistake  and  began  to  laugh  myself,  upon  which  the  whole  group 
joined.  Rin  is  a  measure  of  length.    "It  costs  five  mills,"  was  what 


276    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


she  said.  "Does  it  cost  five  miles?"  was  what  I  asked.  By  dispen- 
sing with  the  verbs  and  using  mainly  nouns,  pronouns,  adjectives  and 
adverbs,  I  get  along  very  well. 

Dai  Buta  is  a  bronze  statue  of  Buddha,  and  although  in  a  sitting 
posture,  is  forty-four  feet  high.  I  take  it  as  at  once  the  finest  statue 
produced  by  Buddhism,  and  the  highest  symbol  of  the  Buddhist  idea. 
While  there  is  not  a  trace  of  spirituality  about  it,  there  is  a  wonderful 
air  of  repose.  It  is  the  complete  absorption  of  life,  the  final  attain- 
ment of  the  end,  the  sinking  away  into  Nirvana — life  swallowed  up  in 
peaceful  death,  which  is  unconscious  existence.  It  is  very  grand. 
But  I  contrasted  it  with  the  best  pictures  of  Christ  on  the  cross  say- 
ing, "It  is  finished."  "Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit." 
The  aspirations,  the  trust,  the  conscious  victory  of  life  over  death,  the 
hint  of  the  resurrection,  the  glorification  of  spirit, — that  is  Christian- 
ity. 

Inland  Sea  of  Japan,  Aug.  27th. 

Although  the  cholera  had  almost  disappeared  from  Kobe,  whence 
we  sailed,  it  was  still  considered  an  infected  port.  Therefore,  when 
we  reached  Nagasaki,  about  ten  o'clock  at  night,  we  were  dehvered 
over  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  quarantine.  We  were  escorted  to 
rooms  where  baskets,  bags  and  kimonos  awaited  us.  We  bagged  our 
clothes,  and  putting  on  the  kimono,  or  loose  wrapper  and  Japanese 
slippers,  we  were  taken  to  the  bathroom,  where  each  was  shown  a 
separate  compartment.  Here  we  found  great  stone  tubs,  half  full  of 
hot  water.  And  here  let  me  say  that  while  we  put  the  boiler  in  the 
stove  to  heat  the  water,  they  put  the  stove  in  the  bath  tub. 

When  I  came  out  of  the  bath,  I  was,  with  all  deference,  conducted 
up  a  flight  of  steps  to  another  building,  the  rest  following  me.  A 
cup  of  tea  was  brought  us  and  a  cigar  or  cigarettes  to  any  who  de- 
sired them. 

Then  our  clothes  were  brought  up  in  bags,  having  been  baked  in  a 
heat  of  two  hundred  and  twelve  degrees,  which  was  supposed  to 
have  burnt  out  all  their  depravity.  About  midnight  we  steamed  back. 
The  ship  had  been  fumigated  in  our  absence,  and  the  smell  of  car- 
bolic acid  was  everywhere.  But  we  had  no  reason  for  complaint,  for 
we  had  had  a  free  sail  out  and  back,  with  a  free  bath  and  a  free 
lunch  thrown  in. 

We  made  our  first  stop  at  the  Goto  Islands,  and  I  started  to  go 
ashore  for  an  hour.  Just  as  I  was  going  down  to  the  rampan. — a 
large  row-boat — the  officer  politely  touched  me.  evidently  requesting 
the  pleasure  of  squirting  carbolic  acid  over  me  from  a  very  primitive 
kind  of  atomizer.  I  acquiesced,  received  a  few  drops,  and  went 
ashore  a  safe  man.  The  next  morning,  when  I  was  about  to  land 
again  at  Trushima,  I  was  not  surprised  to  see  an  official  approaching 
me  with  a  large  tin  watering-pot,  from  which  he  spouted  carbolic  acid 
upon  me.  At  Fusan  we  encountered  more  spattering  of  the  drops 
over  the  deck  and  upon  the  crew. 

I  must  say  for  the  officers  that  they  seemed  to  feel  the  childishness 
of  their  precautions,  and  did  their  work  in  a  very  deprecating, 
shamefaced  sort  of  way. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


277 


On  the  Eldorado.    On  the  way  from  Tientsin  to  Shanghai. 

Sept.  9th,  1886. 

It  is  a  perfect  afternoon,  clear  and  cahn  and  cool  withal.  I  am 
again  the  only  cabin  passenger,  and  my  thoughts  rove  homeward. 
That  moment  of  parting  from  you  at  Syracuse  was  very  hard.  It 
was  as  if  my  heart  was  being  torn  in  twain.  And  often  I  have  the 
greatest  longing  to  see  you  and  Anna,  if  only  for  a  few  moments. 
How  precious  now  is  the  thought  of  that  dear  old  Linden  Home! 
Wherever  else  you  may  be  you  can  always  go  back  to  that  spot  in 
quiet  and  comfort.  I  hope  to  spend  the  winter  with  you  after  my  re- 
turn, writing  my  missionary  lectures,  and  preaching  missionary  ser- 
mons as  I  have  opportunity.  And  I  shall  want  to  finish  Louisa  Pay- 
son's  correspondence  with  you. 

I  have  a  growing  sense  of  a  work  for  missions  to  do  at  home.  This 
has  been  my  one  central  aim.  With  such  opportunities  I  ought  to 
be  able  to  give  special  help  to  that  great  cause. 

Do  you  know  how  dear  this  contact  with  Oriental  life  makes  many 
features  of  our  Occidental  life? — our  music,  our  art,  our  grand  cities, 
our  beautiful  country  homes !  The  very  advertisements  of  those 
things  have  a  fresh  interest.  Above  all,  home  seems  dearer  than 
ever;  and  the  longing  for  a  home  of  my  own  increases. 

For  Mother: — 

Shanghai,  Sunday.  September  25th. 
A  beautiful  Sunday  morning,  with  much  of  the  cool,  crisp  air, 
at  first,  of  home  September  days.  But  the  sun  grows  rapidly  hot. 
Yet  I  have  been  spared  any  oppressive  weather,  with  the  exception 
of  two  or  three  hot  days  and  nights  in  Kyoto.  I  wonder  who  is  with 
you  to-day,  and  how  it  is  with  you  in  heart.  Are  you  in  the  midst  of 
one  of  your  floods,  and  shall  I  be  an  ark  to  come  along  and  take  you 
in?  You  somehow  have  a  wonderful  life-preserver,  and  don't  alto- 
gether sink  in  these  floods.  .  .  .  Oh,  my  dear  mother,  one  knows 
little  of  hoiv  it  is  all  to  be,  but  one  may  know  so  surely  that  it  is  all 
to  be  better  than  the  best  we  can  desire,  that  we  may  very  patiently 
and  gladly  take  the  good  here  and  endure  the  hard.  The  good  is  the 
germ,  and  the  hard  nourishes  the  germ.  So  that  is  my  Sunday 
morning  sermon  to  the  little  mother. 

On  the  Nanzing. 

You  waved  the  magic  wand  of  memory  and  took  me  back  to  my 
boyhood  at  East  Windsor  Hill.  How  well  I  remember  the  scene  you 
describe  of  my  tramping  with  Meta  in  wild  glee  over  the  garden,  re- 
joicing over  every  fresh  discovery.  Other  scenes  I  hold  through 
your  memory.  It  seems  as  if  I  had  shared  with  you  some  of  the  ex- 
periences of  your  childhood.  And  the  letters  we  have  read  together 
have  almost  let  me  live  your  life  over  with  you.  I  hope  for  more  of 
them  when  I  return.  I  am  glad  you  are  making  a  selection,  as  I 
could  not  do  it  myself,  nor  could  I  destroy  them  indiscriminately. 

S.  S.  Ancona,  Oct.  12th,  1886. 

Just  as  I  was  being  taken  out  to  the  steamer,  at  three  o'clock,  I  saw 
the  City  of  Sidney  moving  away  off  towards  San  Francisco. 
These  October  days  are  full  of  memories,  and  my  heart  went  with  it. 
I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  my  place  there,  and  to  be  pushing 
straight  home  to  you.    As  it  was,  only  my  letters  went,  and  an  hour 


278    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


later  I  moved  on  to  the  East  by  the  West.  Two  sick  missionaries 
went  home  with  her,  crippled  after  two  years'  work  in  Siam  and 
China.  And  I  have  hardly  known  a  pain  since  I  left  home.  How 
little  do  I  deserve  such  goodness !  Pray  for  me  that  I  may  walk 
with  God  by  land  and  by  sea. 

On  the  Peiho,  Oct.  22nd,  1886. 

Here  I  am,  back  again  in  the  Peiho,  peacefully  floating  down  its 
winding  course  to  the  music  of  two  great  creaking  oars,  with  which 
the  coolies  row  or  scull  the  boat,  for  they  use  them  longitudinally 
rather  than  laterally.  What  a  contrast  to  the  flood-time  when  I  came 
up !  The  turbid,  rushing  current  has  shrunk  to  a  lazy  stream  mean- 
dering between  low,  sandy  banks. 

Fifteen  miles  from  Pekin,  in  the  temples  scattered  along  the  slopes 
of  the  western  hill,  our  missionaries  find  a  summer  sanitarium.  Start- 
ing from  this  place,  on  our  way  to  the  Great  Wall,  we  skirted  the 
base  of  the  mountains  overlooking  the  ruins  of  the  summer  palace, 
destroyed  by  the  British. 

Our  four  days'  journey  showed  me  the  simple,  childlike  inquisitive- 
ness  of  the  people.  I  felt  myself  perfectly  safe  in  their  hands.  The 
saddle-bags,  filled  with  heavy  cash,  were  frequently  in  the  charge  of 
strangers,  yet  not  a  coin  was  taken.  They  gazed  in  wondering 
crowds  at  my  camera,  but  did  not  touch  any  of  the  utensils.  My  eye- 
glasses were  the  greatest  marvel.  Seeing  them  adjusted  to  my  nose, 
they  would  beg  to  take  a  squint  themselves.  But  as  the  Chinese  nose 
is  without  a  bridge,  their  efforts  to  make  the  glasses  stick  were  in 
vain,  and  the  strange,  puzzled  look  on  their  faces  was  most  comical. 
They  show  a  decided  admiration  for  foreign  cloth,  fingering  over  the 
stuff  of  our  garments  with  the  greatest  eagerness. 

At  the  first  tea-house,  where  we  lunched  under  an  awning,  I  found 
twenty-five  or  thirty  men  and  children,  pressing  close  on  us  with  gap- 
ing scrutiny  of  every  movement  we  made,,  every  mouthful  we  took. 
Yet  all  this  was  in  a  simple,  friendly  way,  and  when  my  companion, 
a  young  missionary,  just  before  we  left,  mounted  his  stone  seat  and 
talking  to  them  about  Jesus  Christ,  received  respectful  attention,  I 
felt  that  we  were  certainly  not  among  enemies. 

Cawnpore,  Jan.  ist,  1887. 

A  happy  New  Year!  I  have  just  visited  the  beautiful  memorial 
over  the  well  where  so  many  were  massacred,  the  Memorial  Church 
being  built  on  the  spot  where  General  Wheeler  camped.  It  is 
thrilling  to  re-peruse  the  history  while  walking  over  the  ground. 

I  send  this  card,  my  first  writing  for  the  New  Year.  I  hope  to  end 
it  with  you.  Am  on  the  way  to  Lucknow.  After  this  you  may  direct 
to  Jerusalem. 

Cairo,  Feb.  1887. 

Right  in  the  heart  of  this  great,  motley.  Oriental  city,  and  among 
the  sights  which  Moses  and  Joseph  saw.  .  .  Never  have  I  had 
such  a  circus  on  entering  a  town  as  on  our  landing  from  the  steamer 
at  Suez.  There  were  about  a  dozen  of  us,  nine  of  these  being  Ameri- 
cans, of  whom  three  were  ladies.  First,  after  tedious  waiting,  we 
drop  from  the  steamer  into  the  lighter.  Another  delay !  Finally,  the 
tug  steams  off,  landing  us  at  a  dock,  where  we  are  to  take  a  train  for 
a  few  rods  to  the  Suez  Hotel. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  279 


A  rush  of  coolies  and  gamins!  A  flurry  with  trunks  and  satchels, 
only  to  find  ourselves  on  the  wrong  train. 

A  rush  for  the  other  one!  Adjurations  and  objurgations  from  the 
coolies,  who  clamor  for  more  backsheesh ! 

A  short  ride  and  out  again ! 

Still  a  long  ways  off!  Now  everything  once  more  on  coolies' 
backs  !  Trunks  grow  too  heavy  for  them,  and  are  transferred  to 
donkeys. 

Donkey  boys  beset  us  as  we  advance.  "Here  is  Lady  Langtry." 
"But  we  are  Americans."  "Oh,  then,  this  is  Mary  Anderson."  "But 
we  don't  want  to  ride,  anyway." 

Each  of  us  is  trying  to  keep  track  of  half  a  dozen  things  seized  by 
as  many  different  men  scampering  off  in  every  direction.  A  flying 
rabble,  we  work  our  way  along  the  streets. 

"My  trunk,  where  is  that?"  "Oh,  yes,  there  is  the  man,  but 
where  is  my  valise?"  "I  have  it,  but  I  don't  see  your  other  trunk." 
"Oh,  here  it  is  on  the  donkey." 

And  so  it  goes  till  we  reach  the  Custom  House,  where  everything 
is  deposited.  No  trouble  here,  however,  and  we  soon  pass  on,  at  last 
reaching  the  hotel,  glad  to  pay  almost  any  price  to  be  rid  of  our 
swarm  of  men  and  boys  and  donkeys. 

Ceylon. 

A  New  York  friend  delights  to  tell  how,  one  afternoon,  in  a  hotel 
at  Cincinnati,  he  was  the  involuntary  auditor  of  a  prolonged  discus- 
sion, by  a  group  of  residents,  on  various  features  of  the  business  in 
hogs.  Dropping  asleep,  after  a  time,  the  last  thing  he  heard  was 
about  pork.  After  a  nap  of  two  hours,  on  awaking,  the  first  thing 
he  saw  was  the  same  grou".  The  first  thing  he  heard  was  an  eager 
tone  exclaiming — "Take,  for  example,  the  article  of  pork,"  when  he 
concluded  it  was  time  to  leave. 

The  chances  are  about  as  five  to  one  that  any  conversation  in  the 
hotels,  steamboats  or  railcars  of  Ceylon  will  be  about  tea  or  coffee. 
This  gives  more  variety  than  my  friend  found,  for  it  is  now  tea,  then 
coffee,  then  coffee  and  afterwards  tea.  And  there  may  be  reason 
enough  for  this,  at  the  present  day.  The  time  was  when  the  fragrant 
berry  was  the  pride  and  wealth  of  the  island.  But  the  disease  of  the 
leaf,  which  afflicted  Java  and  Brazil,  has  appeared  here  also,  destroy- 
ing crops  and  ruining  planters. 

Finding  that  tea  would  grow  well  on  the  island,  most  of  the  coffee 
plantations  are  now  being  transformed  into  tea-estates.  But  for  this, 
Ceylon  would  now  be  poverty-stricken. 

There  is,  probably,  no  part  of  the  British  possessions  which  more 
clearly  illustrates,  on  a  small  scale,  the  benefits  of  British  rule  than 
Ceylon.  It  contains  about  25,000  square  miles  and  a  present  popula- 
tion of  nearly  3,000,000,  mainly  Singhalese  and  Tamils.  It  has  an 
authentic  history  of  nearly  2.500  years,  dating  from  542  B.  C.  This 
is  found  in  the  Singhalese  Chronicles,  which  record  the  reign  of 
well  nigh  one  hundred  and  seventy  kings  and  queens,  down  to  the 
last  tyrant  of  Kandy,  deposed,  in  1815,  by  the  British. 

It  has  also  a  traditional  history,  running  back  to  the  beginning  of 
the  world,  when,  according  to  the  Mohammedans,  it  was  the  home 
of  Adam  and  Eve  after  losing  Paradise.    The  truthfulness  of  this 


28o    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


story  is  vouched  for  by  the  name,  Adam's  Peak,  applied  to  one  of 
its  highest  mountains,  and  Adam's  Bridge,  to  a  coral  reef  between  it 
and  India.  It  has  so  excited  the  admiration  of  other  peoples  as  to 
be  termed  "Lanka,  the  Resplendent,"  by  the  Brahmins ;  "The  Pearl 
Drop  on  the  brow  of  Ind,"  by  the  Buddhists;'"  "The  Island  of 
Jewels,"  by  the  Chinese,  and  "The  Land  of  the  Hyacinth  and  Ruby," 
by  the  Greeks.  But  its  true  resources  were  never  known,  its  natural 
gifts  never  improved,  its  people  never  fairly  trained,  until  within  the 
last  seventy  years,  under  England's  beneficent  tyranny. 

Calcutta,  Dec.  29th,  1886. 

My  dear  Sister : — 

I  had  to  laugh  when  your  letter  at  last  reached 
me.  It  was  a  postal  curiosity,  covered  all  over  with  new  directions, 
having  been  sent  hither  and  thither,  in  search  of  the  "Bank  of  India," 
which  does  not  exist  at  Madras,  or  anywhere  else,  so  far  as  I  know. 
But  at  last  some  one  wrote  on  it.  "Try  the  missionaries."  Then  it 
was  sent  to  Ahmednagar,  then  to  Allahabad,  then  Calcutta,  and  thus 
enclosed  in  a  fresh  envelope  by  one  of  the  missionaries,  it  reached  me. 

At  Delphi  I  had  heard  of  certain  sweetmeats  as  ver}'  toothsome;  and 
on  my  way  to  Jeypoor.  at  a  station  where  we  were  delayed  for  some 
time,  I  thought  I  would  buy  some  of  these  famous  sweets.  So  I  went 
up  to  a  vendor,  who  had  a  fair  variety,  and  proposed  taking  one  or 
two  of  different  kinds. 

No  sooner  had  I  touched  one  of  them  than  the  man,  a  sour-looking 
Hindoo,  became  angry.  I  took  out  money  to  show  that  I  intended  to 
buy  them.  That  had  no  influence,  and  he  began  talking  in  a  very  ex- 
cited manner.  I  could  not,  of  course,  understand  him,  but  conclud- 
ing he  was  a  surly  fellow.  I  put  back  what  I  had  in  my  hand  and  left 
him,  taking  my  place  in  the  cars. 

I  soon  noticed  a  buzz  of  talk  on  the  platform  and  a  crowd  gather- 
ing. Then  this  vendor,  accompanied  by  the  English  guard,  came  up 
to  the  car,  pointing  me  out  as  if  I  were  a  criminal.  The  guard  sur- 
veyed me,  but.  not  seeming  to  discover  anything  atrocious,  walked 
away.  I  began  to  feel,  however,  as  if  I  were  an  escaped  lunatic,  or  a 
runaway  thief.  Determined  to  know  of  what  I  was  accused,  I  sprang 
from  the  car,  pushed  through  the  crowd,  and  demanded  of  the  guard 
the  occasion  for  all  this  disturbance. 

"The  man  charges  you  with  having  spoiled  all  his  high-caste  sweet- 
meats, which  he  was  selling  to  high-caste  Hindoos." 

"I  touched  only  one  of  them.  Tell  him  this,  and  that  I  had  no 
thought  of  harm." 

With  that,  I  went  back  to  my  seat  to  await  what  came  next.  Soon  a 
police  sergeant  appeared  on  the  scene,  the  crowd  following  him.  He 
did  not  seem  angry,  only  anxious,  and  after  looking  me  over,  retired 
like  his  predecessor. 

Then  I  called  him,  and  he  came  back,  repeating  the  same  statement 
and  asking  my  name  and  destination.  I  told  him  I  was  simply  pass- 
ing through  the  country,  and  could  not  be  expected  to  understand 
these  absurdities.  I  also  claimed  that,  if  the  vendor  exposed  his 
goods  for  public  sale,  without  any  notice  that  they  were  reserved  for 
a  special  class  of  customers,  he  must  take  the  consequences.    But  as 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  281 


he  might  have  suffered  in  the  loss  of  sales  at  this  train,  I  would  give 
him  a  rupee  as  compensation. 

The  sergeant  repeated  this  to  the  man,  who  rejected  the  offer.  "He 
claims  that  his  stuff  is  worth  seven  rupees,  though  I  don't  suppose 
the  whole  thing  cost  him  half  of  that." 

I  then  told  the  sergeant  that  I  wished  neither  to  commit  nor  suffer 
injustice,  and  would  do  in  the  matter  whatever  he  thought  right.  As 
he  had  no  suggestion  to  make,  I  offered  the  man  two  rupees. 

"Don't  you  give  him  a  pice,"  interposed  a  military  officer,  who  had 
just  appeared  on  the  scene.  "He  will  take  your  money  and  then  go 
around  selling  his  candies  the  same  as  ever." 

"Any  way,  offer  him  two  rupees,"  I  rejoined. 

"He  will  not  take  them,"  replied  the  sergeant,  "so  you  may  as  well 
keep  your  money." 

Just  as  the  train  was  moving  off,  the  sergeant  re-appeared  with  the 
announcement,  "The  man  says  he  will  take  the  two  rupees,  and  if  you 
choose  to  give  them,  I  will  see  that  the  goods  are  destroyed." 

I  thought  the  experience  well  worth  the  money,  and  handed  out  the 
rupees,  although  I  have  not  the  least  idea  that  the  sweetmeats  were 
destroyed,  except  by  the  consumption  of  the  mouth,  in  which,  prob- 
ably, the  sergeant  took  his  full  share. 

But  this  incident  shows  how,  in  spite  of  all  changes,  they  cling  to 
their  old  customs.  I  was  to  them  a  barbarian,  and  my  hand  contam- 
inated not  only  what  I  touched,  but  the  whole  basket.  The  railroad, 
however,  is  doing  much  towards  breaking  down  caste.  The  Brah- 
min and  the  sweeper  must  sit  on  the  same  seat,  and  the  Hindoo  can- 
not avoid  the  shadow  of  the  European. 

In  connection  with  his  great  purpose,  Edward  went  into 
many  side-issues.  He  desired  not  only  to  look  into  Confu- 
cianism and  Buddhism,  but  to  meet  theosophists  and  men 
of  the  occult  science.  It  was,  therefore,  with  great  pleasure 
that  his  mother,  after  many  letters,  secured  for  him  from  a 
Scotch  theosophist  and  from  a  Buddhist,  both  of  them  at 
that  time  in  this  country,  various  important  introductions. 

Later,  she  was  able  to  send  him  a  most  courteous  letter 
from  Dr.  Eliott  Coues,  president  of  the  Theosophic  Society 
in  America,  to  Co.  Olcott  of  Bombay,  president  of  that 
society  in  India.  Edward  forwarded  the  letter  and  received 
from  Col.  Olcott  a  cordial  invitation  to  visit  him.  He  ac- 
cepted the  invitation,  although  his  visit  was  necessarily  brief. 
But  through  the  kindness  of  his  host  he  was  able  to  meet 
some  of  the  most  prominent  characters  in  that  circle,  some 
indeed  who  had  communication  with  the  Mahatmas.  From 
his  account  of  an  interview  with  the  High  Priest  of  Adam's 


282   REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Peak  and  principal  of  the  Buddhist  College  a  few  extracts 
are  taken. 

I  realize  that  I  am  at  one  of  the  great  centres  of  that  vast  system, 
which  has  claimed  more  adherents  than  any  other  religion  under  the 
sun.  Here,  if  anywhere,  I  shall  find  illumination  on  these  deep  prob- 
lems which  have  puzzled,  sometimes  parah-zed  the  human  reason. 
This  is  the  quarter  towards  which  many  sages  of  the  West,  especially 
of  the  American  Athens,  are  looking  for  the  light  that  is  to  rise  in  the 
East. 

Among  the  various  questions  Edward  proposed,  only  one 
or  two  are  given ; — 
"What  is  Nirvana?" 

I  fancied  a  look  of  deep  wisdom  passing  into  that  strange  face,  as 
of  one  who  had  solved  life's  mysteries. 

"With  consciousness,  happiness  is  impossible,  for  the  pressure  of 
inevitable  suffering  prevents  it.    Nirvana  is  unconscious  happiness." 

"It  is  hard,"  I  reply,  "for  the  western  mind  to  see  how  a  man  can 
be  happy  without  knowing  something  about  it." 

"Is  that  which  survives  after  death  the  same  person  as  the  one  who 
existed  before,  or  is  it  a  different  person?" 

I  await  the  answer  with  anxiety. 

"It  is  not  the  same  person,  and  it  is  not  a  different  person.  The 
moral  results  pass  along  without  the  personality." 

.  .  .  At  last,  the  High  Priest  began  to  question  me,  showing 
keen  interest  in  western  movements : — "Is  spiritualism  on  the  in- 
crease in  America?  I  do  not  see  how  any  one  can  be  a  spiritualist 
and  a  Christian  at  the  same  time?"    .    .  . 

"Is  it  true  that  Christianity  is  losing  ground  there?  Is  the  belief 
in  hell  disappearing?    What  are  your  own  views  on  that  subject?" 

Beirut.  April  i8th.  1887. 

At  Damascus  I  had  received  an  invitation  from  Dr.  Dennis,  to 
come  with  Dr.  Robinson,  with  whom  he  was  acquainted,  directly  to 
his  house.  And  near  the  foot  of  the  long  hill  was  his  carriage  wait- 
ing for  us,  while  soon  after  the  doctor  with  his  son  Albert,  and  then 
Dr.  Bliss,  met  us  on  horseback. 

The  Damascus  water  had  disagreed  with  me,  and  I  was  not  well. 
But  this  house  has  proved  a  haven  of  health,  as  well  as  of  rest.  Dr. 
Post  was  summoned  and  left  a  prescription,  so  that  I  kept  my  bed 
yesterda}^  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Dennis  have  been  full  of  hospitality,  and 
Mrs.  Dennis  has  watched  over  me  like  a  sister.  She  is  one  of  the 
lovely  women  of  the  earth.  He  is  very  quiet,  unassuming,  thought- 
ful, ever  radiating  kindness.  Their  home  has  been  an  Elysium  to  a 
traveller. 

Of  this  visit  at  Beirut,  Mrs.  Dennis  writes: — 

I  well  remember  the  impression  he  made  upon  us  of  cheerful  pa- 
tience. Christian  refinement,  and  warm  appreciation  of  slight  min- 
istries. The  day  after  his  arrival  was  the  Sabbath.  It  was  a  beauti- 
ful day,  and  he  was  not  too  ill  to  enjoy  the  sunshine  and  fresh  air  as 
it  came  in  through  the  doors  and  windows  of  his  little  corner  room. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  283 


opening  out  on  the  piazza.  He  enjoyed  the  birds  twittering  in  a  blos- 
soming tree,  the  books  about  the  room,  and  the  simple,  home  food 
adapted  to  his  need.. 

His  visit  was  quite  brief,  but  the  glow  of  his  refined  and  Christian 
personality  lingers  still  in  our  memory. 

Dr.  Dennis  adds: — "His  careful  observation  during  his 
long  tour,  his  discriminating  judgment  upon  mission  mat- 
ters, and  his  systematic  presentation  of  some  of  the  highest 
themes  in  mission  literature,  were  all  the  natural  fruit  of  his 
intellectual  ability  and  his  devoted  missionary  spirit." 

From  Rev.  Lyman  Bartlett,  a  missionary  of  the  Ameri- 
can Board  in  Turkey: — 

I  remember  your  son  as  a  boy  when  I  was  in  the  Theological  Sem- 
inary at  East  Windsor  Hill,  after  which  I  saw  nothing  of  him  until  his 
visit  at  Smyrna,  and  at  our  Annual  Meeting  at  Constantinople.  But 
the  impression  he  left  on  me  was  that  he  had,  in  a  remarkable  degree, 
taken  in  and  understood  the  missionary  work  as  he  had  witnessed  it 
in  the  management  of  the  different  Boards  and  among  a  great  variety 
of  people  on  both  sides  the  globe.  How  well  did  he  read  missionary 
character,  and  how  clearly  discerned  their  trials  and  the  developing 
processes  through  which  they  pass !    .    .  . 

How  many  dear  friends  have  gathered  on  the  other  shore  and  await 
our  coming !  After  my  own  kindred,  one  of  the  dearest  friends  I 
hope  to  meet  'over  there,'  is  your  sainted  husband,  whose  influence 
upon  me  was  perhaps  stronger  than  that  of  any  other  teacher  I  ever 
had.   I  remember  him  with  great  affection  and  the  deepest  reverence. 

The  answer  to  Mrs.  Thurber's  riddle :    A  Whale. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


THE   WORLD   TOUR  COMPLETED. 

He  who  guides  the  spheres 
Can  through  my  Httle  life,  my  labors  small, 
Further  and  fill  His  infinite  design. 
With  Him  one  day  is  as  a  thousand  years. 

— D.  M.  Henderson. 

S.  S.  Rio  Grande,  April  22nd,  1887. 

If  there  was  ever  an  idle  dolce  far  niente  time  in  my  life  it  is  now 
on  this  French  coasting  steamer,  when  we  make  our  run  at  night 
and  lie  in  port  through  the  day,  and  have  little  to  do  but  gaze  at  the 
deep  blue  sea  under  us  and  the  pale  blue  sky  above  us. 

It  seems  as  if  we  were  embarked  on  some  dream-ship,  and  were  to 
drift  vaguely  on  in  this  way,  with  no  toil  or  care ;  circling  around  this 
land-locked  sea  in  company  with  the  ghosts  of  Greeks  and  Trojans 
and  others  who  once  lived  and  fought  here,  and  now  have  come  back 
to  review  old  scenes  and  times.  An  end  will  quickly  come  to  this, 
but  I  would  like  to  keep  somewhat  of  its  rest  and  peace  to  infuse 
into  the  busy,  strifeful  days  which  are  before  me.  I  cannot  realize 
that  Palestine,  with  its  blessed  scenes  and  memories,  is  now  a  part  of 
my  being ;  that  I  have  followed  the  steps  aijd  visited  the  homes  of 
Jesus  ;  that  Nazareth  and  the  sea  of  Galilee,  Bethlehem  and  Jerusalem 
suggest  experiences  that  bring  me  nearer  to  my  Lord.  I  say  this,  yet 
realize  little  of  all  it  means.  Yet  there  it  is,  a  precious  fund  to  be 
drawn  upon  for  all  my  life.  Delightful,  blessed  days  they  were, 
which  were  spent  in  these  sacred  places ! 

I  enclose  a  violet  from  Gethsemane,  picked  by  Frere  Jacques,  the 
Franciscan  monk,  whose  photograph  I  took. 

Aegean  Sea,  May  ist. 

The  visit  in  Smyrna  was  peculiar  among  all  others  for  its  associa- 
tions with  home.  It  was  delightful  to  see  George  Constantine  look- 
ing for  me  on  the  steamer,  and  then  to  find  Mrs.  C.  in  their  home. 
There  was  much  of  the  old  George  look  in  his  face,  and  he  is  doing  a 
good  work  here.  He  told  me  of  the  old  times,  of  your  keeping  track 
of  him  in  all  his  wanderings,  and  finally  getting  him  from  Richmond 
to  East  Windsor,  and  of  his  tobacco  experience. 

Then  it  was  a  great  pleasure  to  see  cousin  Clara  Lawrence,  who  is 
thoroughly  engaged,  not  only  in  her  school  duties,  but  in  the  evangel- 
istic work  among  the  Greeks. 

On  steamboat  from  Ismid  to  Constantinople,  May  12th,  1887. 

The  work  of  God  in  Asia  seems  spread  like  a  panorama  before  me. 
What  a  collection  of  pictures  has  been  graven  on  my  brain,  and  what 
feelings  impressed  on  my  heart !  The  world  is  so  little  and  yet  so  big  I 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


285 


God's  kingdom  so  infinite,  and  so  universal  in  its  gerrjis !  .  .  . 
And  now  we  shall  soon  be  together  again,  never  more  to  have  any 
such  separation  until  the  last  that  shall  be. 

Edward  had  a  delightful  visit  at  Brousa,  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Crawford,  where  also  he  met  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Baldwin, 
who  had  been  in  the  field  for  twenty  years.  "The  two  fami- 
lies have  done  everything  to  make  my  visit  pleasant  and 
profitable." 

Of  this  Brousa  visit,  Mrs.  Crawford  wrote  her  mother, 
Mrs.  Principal  Greenough  of  Westfield,  Mass.,  who  kindly 
sent  the  letter  to  me: — 

Bebeck,  May  19th,  1887. 
Before  leaving  our  Brousa  home  we  received  a  visit  from  Rev.  Ed- 
ward A.  Lawrence,  who  has  travelled  all  over  the  world.  He  is  a 
most  interesting  man — exceptionally  so — scholarly,  a  bachelor,  and 
son  of  Prof.  Lawrence  of  East  Windsor  Seminary.  He  had  a  photo- 
graphic outfit  with  which  he  had  taken  views,  so  he  invited  me  to  go 
up  on  the  mountain  with  him  to  take  a  view  of  Brousa.  He  is  one 
who  sees  everything  where  he  goes,  and  has  most  entertaining  stories 
on  Japan,  China,  Egypt  and  India.  I  hope  you  will  not  fail  to  have 
him  visit  Westfield. 

Before  Edward  reached  America,  Mrs.  Crawford  was 
translated  to  the  better  land,  so  that  heartfelt  sorrow  was 
mingled  with  the  great  pleasure  of  his  visit  to  her  father  and 
mother  in  Westfield. 

In  one  of  his  letters  to  his  mother,  Edward  writes : — 

When  I  reach  home  I  shall  want  to  prepare  my  lectures  on  mis- 
sions. As  to  a  parish,  I  wish  to  be  simply  led  by  God,  not  taking  any 
steps  to  put  myself  forward.  It  would  require  very  clear  evidence  to 
convince  me  that  a  large  city  church  was  the  place  where  I  could  do 
most  good. 

I  feel  a  growing  desire  to  meet  our  theological  and  college  students, 
and  speak  to  them  on  many  themes  in  Comparative  Missionology.  I 
believe  I  can  utilize  my  studies  best  and  do  most  good  in  that  way. 
It  would  be  a  labor  of  love,  and  I  should  care  little  for  pay,  save 
for  my  expenses. 

Yes,  I  am  in  the  world  of  the  Past ;  yet  I  am  more  engrossed  in  the 
Present  and  Future  than  in  all  bygone  days.  It  is  life  that  most  in- 
terests and  concerns  me,  and  what  people  have  been  is  of  interest 
mainly  so  far  as  it  helps  to  show  what  they  are  and  may  become. 


286   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Edward  was  present  at  the  May  meetings  in  Constanti- 
nople, 1887,  and  concerning  the  various  matters  that  came 
under  discussion,  a  few  extracts  from  his  letters  are 
given : — 

The  old  plan  of  stifling  native  growth  and  weakening  native  en- 
deavor by  the  free  use  of  foreign  money  is  being  changed  as  speedily 
as  possible.  The  new  plan  of  expecting  from  the  people  at  least  one- 
half  of  all  to  be  advanced  for  new  churches  or  schools  is  adhered  to 
as  closely  as  circumstances  and  the  often  increasing  poverty  of  the 
people  will  allow.  It  is  not  easy  to  make  the  change,  and  there  is  a 
frequent  conflict  between  sympathy  and  judgment,  the  result  varying 
in  diff'erent  men.  But  some  of  the  inferior  stations  are  really  accom- 
plishing great  things  in  this  direction,  and  all  are  impressed  with  the 
importance  of  a  self-helping  native  church. 

An  illustration  of  progress,  in  this  respect,  appears  in  a  letter 
which  was  read  from  Miss  Chamberlain  of  the  Sivas  Station: — 

"In  building  the  school-rooms  for  the  boarding  department  the 
girls  of  our  High  School  did  excellent  work  in  pulling  down  the  old 
barns  and  erecting  the  new  structure.  Each  wished  for  the  hardest 
work.  The  glee  and  energy  with  which  the  girls  took  hold,  inspired 
the  hewers  of  wood  to  work  with  a  zeal  of  which  they  had  not  seemed 
capable.  Hammers  struck  faster  and  truer,  and  the  layers  of  brick 
astonished  every  one  by  their  frequent  calls  for  more.  We  read  that 
Shallam's  daughters  wrought  to  help  their  father  to  repair  the  walls 
of  Jerusalem.  Even  so,  the  village  girls  became  carriers  of  water, 
brick,  tiles,  and  stones,  and  their  daily  prayers  rose  for  the  workmen 
and  those  that  should  receive  instruction  within  its  walls." 

From  one  of  the  stations  came  this  pathetic  cry : — "A  lone  mission- 
ary sees  clearly  that  unless  reinforcements  are  sent  soon  the  report 
for  next  year  will  be  summed  in  the  word — Swamped." 

The  matter  of  self-support  in  the  native  churches  was  the  main 
point  in  the  address  I  made  and  which,  by  request,  I  repeated  at 
Marsovan  to  the  natives,  through  an  interpreter.  I  have  had  such 
opportunities  for  beholding  great  things  in  God's  kingdom  that  I 
prav  for  the  gift  of  presenting  effectively  what  I  have  seen. 

The  sessions  were  concerned  entirely  with  the  Lord's  business. 
There  was  not  the  slightest  allusion  to  the  discussions  and  diflFer- 
ences  at  home.  They  were  the  king's  messengers  who  had  no  time  to 
fall  out  by  the  way. 

To  a  friend  in  Poughkeepsie,  Edward  writes: — 

On  the  Black  Sea,  June  17th,  1887. 

.  .  .  Your  letter  was  forwarded  to  me  at  Satara,  a  country  mis- 
sion station,  one  or  two  hundred  miles  to  the  south.  I  had  been 
visiting  some  of  the  citadels  of  Brahmin  heathenism,  and  admiring 
the  courage  and  the  faith  that  could  make  the  attack  with  a  band  far 
smaller  than  Gideon's.  It  seems  almost  like  attacking  Gibraltar  with 
trumpets  and  pitchers. 

Good  is  it  not? — that  of  Mark  Twain: — "Remarks  the  camel, 
'There  are  three  of  us,  the  pyramids,  the  sphinx  and  myself.'  " 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE.  JR.  287 

Well,  I  saw  the  three  in  conjunction,  and  if  the  camel  is  not  the 
oldest,  it  shows  its  age  the  most. 

Being  unable  to  go  through  the  Desert  with  Moses,  I  took  a  short 
cut  to  Jaffa  and  Jerusalem,  our  religious  geographical  centre,  where 
the  body  of  Christ  is  rent,  as  were  his  garments  generations  ago. 

From  Rev.  S.  F.  Wright,  editor  of  a  New  Church  maga- 
zine issued  in  Cambridge: — 

My  wife  and  I  first  saw  Mr.  Lawrence  in  front  of  a  hotel  in  Jeru- 
salem. He  had  just  joined  the  party  to  which  we  belonged.  It  was 
early  morning  when  we  set  off  for  the  Jordan.  The  horses  were  of 
all  sorts,  and  he  chose  one  of  the  most  spirited  and  leaped  so  high  to 
mount  him  that  he  went  over  the  other  side.  The  second  attempt 
was  successful,  but  he  had  a  busy  time  keeping  his  horse  within 
bounds. 

The  genuineness  of  his  friendship  made  itself  felt  at  once.  He 
must  have  made  his  way  among  people  with  unusual  facility.  Such 
a  person  seems  always  ready  to  be  taken  hence.  I  think  of  his  in- 
fluence with  us  all  as  increased  rather  than  diminished. 

As  the  spring  found  Edward's  mother  somewhat  broken 
in  health — by  the  advice  of  medical  and  other  friends,  and 
the  strong  endorsement  of  her  son,  it  was  decided  that  she 
should  go  abroad  and  meet  him  on  his  return  journeyings. 
Accordingly,  in  the  latter  part  of  June,  she  crossed  the  sea, 
and  went  directly  to  London,  to  their  old  friends,  the  Cof- 
fins, in  Cornwall  Gardens. 

After  much  telegraphing  back  and  forth,  it  was  arranged 

that  Edward,  who  had,  reached  Vienna,  should  meet  his 

mother  at  Hamburg.  He  had  written,  "When  we  are  once 

together,  I  want  to  make  our  plans  for  your  satisfaction 

and  pleasure.''    She  had,  therefore,  expressed  her  desire, 

that  so  far  as  they  could  do  so,  they  should  visit  their  old 

friends  in  the  different  countries.    So  they  went  first  to 

Schleswig,  where  Herr  Major  and  Frau  Kloer  were  now 

living.    Edward  writes  his  sister: — 

The  first  one  I  saw  on  the  platform  was  the  Herr  Major  in  his  uni- 
form, whom  I  should  have  known  in  Japan.  With  him  was  Emma, 
now  grown  to  a  fine,  bright  girl.  On  reaching  the  house,  Frau  Louise 
appeared,  and  then  Ulrich  and  his  wife  and  child — the  same  old  Ul- 
rich  whom  I  always  liked  so  much.  Erich  too  is  here.  Conrad  is  a 
professor  in  the  Berlin  University,  while  Walter  is  in  the  army. 


288   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


The  following  letter  from  Frau  Louise  Kloer  was  sent 
after  the  sad  tidings  of  Edward's  departure  had  reached  her. 

Can  you  understand,  my  dear  friend,  how  I  wish  I  could  be  with 
you,  if  for  onlj'  one  hour?  For  me  to  sit  here,  with  mj'  heart  so  full 
of  deep  sorrow,  of  bitter  regret,  and  of  so  many,  many  questions,  and 
to  have  only  this  unhappy  pen  of  mine  that  stumbles  over  every  Eng- 
lish word,  is  a  hard  and  bitter  thing.  Do  you  remember  those  bygone 
days  in  Berlin  when  you  told  me  of  your  dear  daughter  Gretchen, 
and  how  much  I  felt  for  you,  though  1  never  knew  her  ?  Need  1  speak 
of  my  deep  sympathy  with  you  now?  I  have  myself  lost  more  than 
words  can  tell.  And  his  betrothed — I  feel  deeply  for  her.  It  must 
have  been  your  great  wish  for  Edward  that  his  loving  heart  should 
find  its  fellow-heart  for  this  earthly  life.  And  now  he  is  taken  away 
from  all  earthly  things.  But  his  image  is  implanted  in  my  heart  like 
a  true,  golden  treasure.  1  loved  him  because  I  knew  his  best,  his 
very  noblest  own  self  enough  to  understand  his  highest  aims.  He 
has  now  reached  what  he  aspired  after,  and  we  are  yet  on  the  way ; 
but  I  think  he  can  help  us  still.    Do  you  understand  me? 

Her  husband,  the  major,  adds,  "Your  noble  son  was  more 
to  me  than  I  can  tell  you.  His  friendship  will  remain  in  my 
memory  and  my  heart.  And  you  have  lost  more  than  one 
can  feel  and  think.  God  be  with  you  and  your  dear  daugh- 
ter." 

They  had  a  charming  visit  in  Amsterdam  with  the  dear 
Van  Brakels,  Prof.  Jacob  Miiller  of  Leyden  and  all  the 
Miiller  family  circle.  From  subsequent  letters  of  these 
Dutch  friends,  a  few  passages  are  given.  Henrietta,  the 
younger  daughter,  who  came  to  Keisersgracht  expressl}' 
to  meet  us,  whites : — 

"I  so  well  remember  your  visit,  and  what  most  of  all  im- 
pressed us  then  and  has  remained  in  our  memory,  was  the 
great  love  and  tenderness  your  son  bore  you.  To  us  he 
seemed  an  ideal  son.  How  I  pity  his  betrothed — enduring 
the  sorrows  of  widowhood  Avithout  ever  having  known  a 
wife's  happiness!" 

To  a  letter  full  of  sympathy  from  his  wife.  Dr.  A^an 
Brackel  adds,  "I  wish  I  could  write  you  in  my  own  lan- 
guage, for  now^  I  cannot  express  myself  as  I  would.  For 
me,  your  son  will  always  be  the  happy  type  of  a  man,  in 
whom  mental  development  and  sincere  religious  feeling 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  289 


were  combined  in  a  beautiful  harmony;  a  man  who  inspired 
his  fellow-creatures,  perhaps  not  less  by  his  whole  behavior 
than  by  his  words,  the  English  "gentleman,"  combined 
with  the  German  "biederman."  Happy  the  mother  who 
has  possessed  such  a  son!" 

From  the  brother,  Jacob  Miiller,  professor  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  Ley  den: — 

"In  your  son's  manner  there  was  something  of  the  afifec- 
tion  of  a  boy  for  his  mother,  mingled  with  the  courtesy  of  a 
knight  for  his  lady-love.  Your  last  visit  to  Amsterdam 
and  Haarlem  remains  with  us  always.  How  well  your  son 
talked,  that  night  at  my  sister's,  about  his  missionary 
travels ! 

"I  recall  that  grand  organ-playing  in  the  church  at  Haar- 
lem, our  trip  in  the  environs,  and  my  last  words  with  hirt*. 
at  the  railway  station.  My  children  often  talk  about  the 
American  lady  and  gentleman  to  whom  they  stammered 
their  very  first  English  phrases: — 'Mrs.  Lawrence,  how  do 
you  do?'   'Mr.  Lawrence,  sit  down.' 

"Many  changes  have  taken  place  since  your  first  visit  to 
us  in  Amsterdam.  Your  husband  and  my  father  are  no 
more  here;  but  that  you  would  survive  your  son,  surely 
that  you  have  not  expected;  and  I  wish  this  deep  grief 
might  have  been  spared  you.'' 

Thence  we  journeyed  to  Heringsdorf  on  the  Ost  See, 
where  we  were  the  guests  of  our  old  friend,  Frau  Wilsing  of 
Berlin,  in  her  summer  home.  From  there  to  Berlin,  where 
Edward  was  specially  interested  in  looking  into  the  mission- 
ary developments  among  the  Germans.  And  most  warmlv 
would  he  have  vi^elcomed  Christian  Life  in  Germany,  by 
Dr.  Williams  of  Chicago. 

It  was  his  great  object  to  get  at  the  missionary  atmos- 
phere of  the  different  countries  through  which  we  passed 
and  to  see  those  who  were  in  any  way  promoting  mission- 
ary work. 


290   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


From  Berlin  we  went  to  Xuremberg,  where  we  visited 
the  wonderful  museum  in  the  Carthusian  Monastery  and 
saw  the  instruments  of  torture  in  the  old  castle,  the  all-em- 
bracing iron  virgin  being  among  them. 

Thence  by  a  seventeen  hours'  stretch,  including  a  night, 
to  Zurich,  where  my  son  Edward  expected  to  meet  Rev. 
Edward  G.  Porter,  of  Lexington,  Mass.,  who  was  making  a 
missionary  tour.  But  through  some  strange  misunder- 
standing, in  spite  of  all  their  mutual  efforts,  they  failed  to 
meet. 

It  need  not  be  said  that  the  following  letter  from  Mr. 
Porter  brought  much  consolation  to  the  bereaved  mother. 

I  soon  found  myself  upon  your  son's  track  in  Turkey  and  India, 
where  his  visit  was  fresh  in  the  minds  of  the  missionaries  who  had 
been  so  glad  to  welcome  him.  and  to  whom  he  had  brought  such 
cheer  and  sympathy  as  they  had  seldom  received  from  tourists.  In 
many  of  the  remoter  places,  they  told  me  that  for  twenty  years  and 
more  they  had  not  had  a  visit  from  any  American  minister  until  your 
son  appeared  among  them  to  encourage  them  by  his  intelligent  in- 
quiries, his  enthusiastic  observations,  and  his  many  public  addresses 
given  to  the  native  Christians  and  the  various  schools  and  colleges. 

As  I  proceeded  from  one  country  to  another,  I  found  a  readier  wel- 
come than  I  had  ventured  to  expect.  It  was  partly  because  Mr.  Law- 
rence had  prepared  the  way  for  us  by  his  brotherly  words  and  help- 
ful spirit,  shedding  rays  of  light  along  the  pathway  wherever  he  went. 
For  his  sake,  therefore,  many  a  bungalow  was  thrown  open  to  us ; 
and  if  the  brethren  sometimes  expected  a  good  deal  of  work  from 
their  guests  in  return,  it  was  because  he  had  set  the  example,  and  we 
were  supposed  to  be  no  less  willing. 

I  shall  always  remember  that  bright  summer's  day  which  I  spent 
with  you  at  Marblehead  soon  after  my  return.  After  lunch,  your  son 
and  I  strolled  over  to  the  Old  Fort  where  we  sat  down  and  recounted 
our  long  wanderings,  our  many  perils,  our  unique  experiences.  We 
were  then  drawn  to  each  other  in  a  peculiar  sense,  and  in  parting  we 
looked  forward  to  future  opportunities  for  cultivating  the  tender 
memories  of  the  Orient,  which  had  entered  so  largely  into  our  lives. 

His  early  departure  made  a  profound  impression  upon  many  of  us. 
He  had  exhibited  so  many  noble  qualities  in  his  pastorate,  and  was 
planning  such  effective  and  praiseworthy  reforms  in  the  cit3%  that 
great  hopes  were  cherished  concerning  him  for  the  years  to  come. 

But.  dear  Mrs.  Lawrence,  let  us  remember  that  while,  humanly 
speaking,  nothing  may  be  said  to  be  finished  on  earth,  yet,  in  a  very 
important  sense,  a  Christian's  work  herelis  done  when  the  Lord  calls 
him  away. 

And  now  tidings  has  come  that  the  Lord  has  called  ^Ir. 
Porter  to  the  other  life. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


291 


After  a  charming  trip  in  Switzerland,  which  included  the 
ascent  of  Mt.  Rigi,  we  went  to  Paris,  from  which  place  Ed- 
ward wrote  his  sister: — "Aug.  22nd,  1887.  We  are  getting 
acquainted  with  the  shops,  creameries,  bakeries,  meateries 
and  restaurants  of  our  vicinity.  We  think  Paris  a  very  glit- 
tering city,  but  it  is  not  our  idea  of  heaven." 

Edward  spoke  at  several  of  the  McAll  meetings,  some- 
one translating  as  he  went  on.  He  preached  on  missions  in 
the  American  Church,  and  assisted  Mr.  Hough,  the  pastor, 
at  the  communion  table. 

From  Paris,  we  went  to  Glasgow  as  the  guests  of  our 
hospitable  friends,  the  Patersons,  of  Mile  End,  and  thence 
to  the  Manse  of  Ellon,  Aberdeenshire,  to  visit  one  of  Ed- 
ward's tent-mates  and  fellow-travellers  in  Palestine,  Rev. 
Thomas  Young. 

By  special  request,  extracts  of  a  letter  from  Mr.  Young 
are  given  concerning  this  visit  and  his  journeyings  in  Pal- 
estine with  Edward: — 

I  think  I  never  came  across  a  mother  and  son  who  were  so  entirely 
bound  up  in  one  another ;  whose  sympathy  was  so  complete,  and 
whose  love  was  so  deep.  The  few  days  in  September,  1887,  that  you 
and  he  spent  under  this  roof  are  still  to  my  wife  and  me  a  revelation 
of  what  a  mother  and  son  can  be  to  one  annther.  Therefore,  it  gives 
me  a  very  agony  of  mind  to  think  what  a  loss  you  have  sustained,  and 
how  bitter  must  be  your  grief.  To  say  that  my  wife  and  I  sympa- 
thize with  you,  weep  with  you,  is  to  put  on  paper  words  that  are  far 
too  cold  to  express  our  real  feelings.  You  need  not  doubt  that  our 
most  earnest  prayers  are  for  you.    .  . 

I  first  met  with  your  son,  as  you  know,  in  Jerusalem.  Dr.  Robin- 
son, whose  acquaintance  I  had  made  in  Beirut,  was  the  common 
friend  that  linked  us  together.  We  three,  with  sixteen  others,  were 
setting  out  on  a  trip  through  the  Holy  Land.  We  wanted  to  be  togeth- 
er; so  tent  XIX  was  assigned  to  us.  A  happier  trio  never  spent  six 
and  twenty  days  in  each  other's  company  beneath  those  Syrian  skies. 
And  of  the  three,  indeed,  of  the  nineteen,  none  was  such  a  general 
favorite  as  your  son.  He  was  so  good,  so  clever,  so  courteous  and 
genial.  Easy  and  simple,  but  gentlemanly  and  self-respecting  in  his 
manners,  many-tongued,  but  pure  in  all  his  words,  keen  in  his  joy  and 
appreciation  of  nature,  but  intensely  spiritual  in  his  deeper  thoughts 
and  feelings,  he  was  one  of  the  most  delightful  and  elevating  fellow- 
travellers  I  ever  came  across. 

A  crowd  of  memories  rush  over  me.  I  think  of  the  earnest  worker 
by  the  Sea  of  Galilee  as  he  kept  me  out  of  the  tent,  whilst  he,  in  cur- 


292    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


tained  darkness,  was  developing  some  views  he  had  taken,  or  as,  next 
day,  he  photographed  our  camp  near  the  ancient  site  of  Bethsaida. 

I  think  of  the  light-hearted  young  man  as  he  laughed  as  his  mishap 
in  the  stream  near  But  Jenn,  when  his  horse  stumbled,  splashing  him 
and  soaking  his  saddle-bags,  or  when,  in  our  unsavory  bedroom 
above  a  stable  in  Baalbec,  he  joined  in  those  jokes  and  puns  of  merri- 
ment which  threatened  to  banish  sleep  for  the  entire  night. 

I  think  of  him  as,  on  the  evening  before  Easter,  he  and  I  strolled 
away  together  into  the  moonlit  loneliness  of  a  garden  of  trees  near 
Caesarea  Philippi.  We  wanted  to  realize  the  outward  circumstances 
under  which  Christ's  agony  took  place  in  Gethsemane  centuries  be- 
fore. Amid  the  sharp,  deep  shadows  of  those  leafy  boughs  our  con- 
versation was  of  the  mysterious  divine  sorrow  of  our  Saviour.  It 
was  an  evening  never  to  be  forgotten. 

He  seemed  at  once  to  win  his  way  to  the  hearts  of  strangers.  When 
our  tour  through  the  Holy  Land  was  ended  he  was  slightly  indis- 
posed, which  necessitated  his  being  laid  up  for  a  few  days  in  Beirut, 
at  the  house  of  Rev.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Dennis  of  the  American  college 
there.  And  how  kind  they  were  to  him !  And  how  affectionately 
they  spoke  of  him  to  me  after  he  had  left !  A  few  weeks  later  I 
saw  him  in  Constantinople. 

I  next  saw  him  when  you  and  he  gave  us  the  great  pleasure  of  visit- 
ing us  in  our  Aberdeenshire  home.  It  was  my  hope  that  he  would 
come  again  to  see  us,  and  perhaps  bring  with  him  the  one  who  was 
to  be  his  wife.  But  alas !  We  are  not  to  meet  again  on  earth.  He 
has  crossed  the  Jordan  and  passed  into  the  heavenly  Canaan.  May  I 
have  grace  to  follow !  And  so  may  the  tent-mates  of  a  Holy  Land  on 
earth  be  happy  associates  in  the  truly  Holy  Land  on  high  I 

From  Ellon  we  went  to  Aberdeen,  where  we  were  gra- 
ciously entertained  by  Mrs.  Isabella  Fyfie  Mayo,  author 
of  Occupations  of  a  Retired  Life;  to  Edinburgh,  meeting 
many  of  our  Scotch  friends,  and  where  Edward  saw  promi- 
nent men,  connected  with  foreign  missionary  work.  We 
also  visited  friends  in  the  south  of  Scotland,  at  Castle 
Douglas,  where  Edward  told  the  assembled  and  attentive 
tenants  of  Mr.  Duncan  of  some  things  he  had  seen  in 
heathen  lands. 

And  here  he  left  me  in  order  to  attend  the  Church  Con- 
gress at  Wolverhampton,  with  arrangements  for  me  to  join 
him  in  London.  On  his  way  he  visited  the  Exposition 
at  Manchester,  concerning  which  he  wrote: — "I  have  never 
seen  so  fine  a  gathering  of  modern  paintings.  As  we  rode 
away  one  who  sat  by  me  on  the  top  of  a  car  remarked, 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  293 

'The  reason  Hi  like  that  collection  so  well  is  because  there 

haint  any  of  the  hold  masters  there.   The  hold  masters  hare 

a  noosance,  that's  what  Hi  think.'  " 

At  Wolverhampton,  two  thousand  people  must  have  been  sitting  in 
the  great  hall.  The  papers  were  exceptionally  good.  In  the  evening 
I  saw  the  spectacle  of  a  dull  speaker  being  stamped  down  by  his  au- 
dience, and  that  a  religious  one,  before  his  time  was  up.  The  bishop 
announced  that  he  had  two  minutes  more,  but  he  was  fairly  drowned 
out. 

Several  weeks  were  passed  in  London,  where  Edward, 
according  to  his  usual  fashion,  entered  into  a  variety  of 
matters — vi.sitingMildmay  Park,  the  China  Inland  Mission, 
a  Fabi'an  gathering,  and  Toynbee  Hall,  where,  he  says,  "it 
was  interesting  to  see  Free  Thinkers,  Orthodox,  Congrega- 
tionalists,  Unitarians  and  Church  people,  as  well  as  Roman 
Catholics,  gathered  about  Mr.  Barnett. 

Then  I  went  to  the  Positivist  Society,  a  small  company  of  intelligent, 
scholarly-looking  people,  who  meet  in  a  little  hall  of  Fetter  Lane. 
Professor  Beesley  read  a  lecture  on  the  French  Revolution,  the  last 
of  a  series.  We  sang  hymns  before  and  after,  that  is  they  did.  I 
could  not  join  in  the  last,  which  began, — 

No  God's  Will  will  help  us  now. 
Farewell  to  miracle, 

^  .         .  . 

and  closed  with  an  invocation  to  Order.  All  the  while,  just  back  of 
the  speaker,  we  saw  the  beautiful  Sistine  Madonna.  The  child  Jesus 
seemed  to  look  with  strange  pity  on  the  scene. 

Above,  on  the  walls,  was  Family,  Humanity,  Country;  also, — The 
Foundation,  Order;  The  Principle,  Love;  The  End,  Progress. 

But  Progress  towards  what? 

I  doubt  whether  there  are  any  people  more  caught  by  the  illusion 

of  words  than  the  Positivists. 

We  attended  a  lecture  by  Dr.  B.  W.  Richardson,  and 
then  ascended  to  an  upper  room  to  hear  a  most  noisy, 
vociferous  discussion  by  Burns,  so  prominent  in  the  riot, 
and  other  tumultuous  men,  in  which  were  grains  of  wheat 
mingled  with  much  chaflf.  We  had  a  delightful  visit  at  the 
home  of  Mrs.  Bright  Lucas,  then  president  of  the  British 
Woman's  Temperance  Society,  and  also  at  Clissold  Lodge, 
the  residence  of  Miss  Reynolds,  who  still  carries  on  her 
father's  work  in  the  British  Anti-Tobacco  Society",  which  he 


294  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


founded,  ^^'e  had  a  very  pleasant  afternoon  tea  and  even- 
ing with  her  and  her  friend,  Miss  Nicholson,  who  was 
living  with  her.  In  a  letter  of  sympathy,  she  writes: — 
"How  well  we  remember  Mr.  Lawrence's  manly  bearing 
and  his  chivalrous  devotion  to  his  mother."*  We  also  visited 
at  Mr.  Tebb's,  a  vigorous  opponent  of  enforced  vaccina- 
tion. We  became  well  acquainted  with  Mr.  S.  E.  Hall, 
founder  of  the  Art  Joumal.  and  a  confirmed  spiritualist, 
passing  a  delightful  evening  at  their  house,  with  him  and 
his  accomplished  wife. 

\\'e  had  frequent  intercourse  with  our  old  and  tried 
friends,  the  Coffins,  of  Cornwall  Garden,  and  the  various 
scattered  members  of  the  family,  who  did  much  to  make 
our  stay  in  Lx)ndon  agreeable. 

We  were  in  London  at  the  time  of  the  Trafalgar  Square 
Riots,  and  Edward  was  in  the  procession  when  it  Avas  so 
thoroughly  broken  up  by  the  military.  We  attended 
churches  all  over  the  city,  but  found  no  ser\-ice  that  inter- 
ested us  more  than  that  of  the  Salvation  Army  in  Regent 
Circus. 

Edward  entered  there,  as  everywhere,  into  the  sociologi- 
cal questions  of  the  day,  and  was  often  out  till  midnight, 
and  on  one  occasion  the  whole  night,  studying  the  condi- 
tion of  the  unemployed  and  exploring  the  wickedest  parts 
of  the  city. 

But  his  main  object  was  to  gain  information  as  to  the 
histon."  of  the  various  Missionan."  Societies  and  their  dififer- 
ent  organizations  and  methods  of  work.  It  was  for  this 
purpose  that  he  secured  lodgings  near  the  British  Museum, 
where  he  passed  many  hours.  He  also  saw  a  good  deal  of 
prominent  men,  connected  officially  with  the  various  ^Mis- 
sionar}-  Boards,  learning  the  results  of  the  different  modes 
of  management,  and  drawing  his  own  conclusions. 

*There  has  lately  come  the  sad  tidings  that  on  Jan.  27th.  1900.  Miss 
Frances  Emma  Reynolds,  "one  of  the  noblest  and  purest  of  woman- 
kind." and  for  t\vent\--eight  years  editor  of  The  Anti-Tobacco  Jour- 
nal, was  translated  to  her  heavenlj-  home. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  2 95 


It  was  very  pleasant  to  meet  in  that  gathering-place  with 
Prof,  and  Mrs.  Mead,  formerly  of  Andover  Theological 
Seminary,  and  occupants  of  the  house  built  there  for  his 
grandfather,  and  to  talk  with  them  of  the  old  and  the  new 
times. 

It  was  not  without  many  regrets  that  we  parted  from  our 
various  friends  in  the  Old  World.  But,  once  embarked  on 
the  steamship  Pavonia,  our  thoughts  went  forward  with 
joyful  anticipations.  Andi  is  there  not  always  this  mingling 
in  human  life,  according  to  the  old  song  of  Meg  Merrilles? 

Twist  ye,  twine  ye,  even  so 
Mingle  shades  of  joy  and  woe, 
Hope  and  fear,  and  bliss  and  strife. 
In  the  mystic  thread  of  life. 

It  was  early  in  December,  and  the  rough  weather  gave 
opportunity  for  sundry  acrobatic  feats  more  entertaining  to 
others  than  profitable  to  the  performer.  About  the  middle 
of  the  month  we  reached  Marblehead,  and  very  soon  hast- 
ened to  the  waiting  sister  at  Syracuse.  In  his  old  church, 
and  in  other  churches  there,  Edward  gave  some  accoitnt  of 
his  missionary  tour.  From  Syracuse,  he  went  to  Cham- 
plain  and  Plattsburg,  where  he  had  delightful  visits  with 
his  old  friends,  and  where  he  preached  missionary  sermons. 
Indeed,  he  would  gladly  have  given  a  year  to  this  work 
among  the  churches,  had  the  way  been  opened. 

In  his  missionary  talks,  Edward  often  told  the  touching 
rupee  story,  of  which  a  full  account  is  given  in  his  book, 
Modern  Missions  in  the  East.  When  he  was  at  Dindigul, 
in  the  Madura  Mission,  Dr.  Chester  took  him  to  a  small 
village  to  assist  in  the  Communion  services  in  a  little 
church  just  built,  with  mud  walls,  four  holes  in  them  being 
three  windows  and  a  door,  the  whole  costing  a  hundred 
rupees. 

After  the  sacrament,  Edward  told  his  attentive  hearers, 
sitting  cross-legged  on  the  mud  floor,  about  his  travels, 
Dr.  Chester  being  the  interpreter.   And  when  they  left,  the 


296    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

leader,  Savini-Mutter,  followed  them,  handing  to  the 
Doctor  a  bright  silver  rupee,  a  hundredth  part  of  the  cost 
of  the  church,  which  he  passed  to  Edward,  telling  him  the 
leader  presented  it  as  a  thank-of¥ering,  to  help  him  on  his 
journey. 

In  a  letter  to  Edward's  mother,  after  saying — "We  never 
had  a  visitor  who  more  thoroughly  enjoyed  seeing  and 
hearing  about  Mission  work  than  your  son,''  Dr.  Chester 
adds — "He  shed  tears  as  he  took  that  rupee.  He  could  not 
help  it.   And  so  did  I." 

A  double-eagle  just  covered  the  rupee,  and  in  telling  the 
story,  appreciating  hearers  had  several  times  covered  it. 
He  had  thus  been  able  to  send  a  hundred  dollars  to  help  in 
the  work  of  that  station.  The  little  church  at  Sachiapuram 
greatly  desired  a  bell,  and  Dr.  Chester  wrote  him,  "You 
don't  know  how  much  these  gifts  are  worth  to  my  station," 
adding  that  a  part  of  the  money  was  to  be  appropriated  for 
the  desired  bell,  to  be  called  "The  Lawrence  Bell.'' 

By  request,  Edward  delivered  an  essay  on  Missions  at 
the  New  York  State  Congregational  Association,  which 
was  held  in  Albany  in  May,  1887.  In  the  report  of  this 
meeting,  in  a  religious  weekly,  is  the  following  comment: 

"The  most  original  and  stimulating  address  of  the  whole 
session  was  that  given  by  Rev.  Edward  A.  Lawrence.'' 

Rev.  Dr.  James  H.  Ecob,  at  that  time  pastor  of  a  Presby- 
terian church  in  Albany,  writes: — 

"I  shall  never  forget  the  sensation  of  that  hour  during  the 
State  Association  in  the  First  Congregational  Church  of 
Albany.  I  entered,  expecting  the  usual  dull  routine.  A 
strangerwas  in  the  pulpit  speaking.  I  was  struck  at  once  by 
his  scholarly,  spiritual  appearance,  and  instantly  I  felt  that 
something  out  of  the  run  of  ordinary  Association  afifairs 
was  in  progress.  I  soon  felt  myself  caught  in  the  stream  of 
his  thought  and  was  carried  with  the  rest  of  the  audience  to 
the  end  in  profound  and  delighted  attention.  As  you  know, 
I  hurried  a  block  or  more  to  overtake  the  man  who  had  laid 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE.  JR. 


297 


me  under  so  great  obligations,  and  make  suitable  acknowl- 
edgement of  my  indebtedness.  It  is  hard  to  think  that  so 
great  a  power  for  all  best  things  is  snatched  from  us.'' 

Of  the  following  testimonies  some,  as  will  be  seen,  were 
written  concerning  the  missionary  addresses,  or  lectures  as 
such,  with  the  desire  that  they  should  be  published,  while 
the  others  relate  to  their  appearance  in  book  form,  under 
the  title,  "Modern  Missions  in  the  East." 

Writes  Rev.  Dr.  Spalding,  of  the  First  Presbyterian 
Church  at  Syracuse: — 

When  your  son  went  abroad  to  visit  some  of  the  most  important 
missionary  stations  of  the  church,  I  felt  largely  sure  that  his  keen, 
observant  spirit,  his  philosophical  instinct  and  habit,  and  his  profound 
Christian  faith  would  gather  much  and  precious  fruit  for  the  enlight- 
enment and  incitement  of  the  churches  on  his  return.  The  lectures 
on  Missions  which  followed,  delivered  before  audiences  of  largest  in- 
telligence on  this  subject,  fully  met  my  high  anticipations.  For  com- 
prehensiveness and  exactness  of  view,  intense  practicalness,  and 
simple,  strong,  exultant  and  always-inspiring  faith.  I  know  not  where 
to  find  anything  that  equals  these  lectures  by  your  dear  son.  His  own 
missionary  spirit,  that  of  unselfish  love,  and  boundless  faith  in  the 
commissioning  words  of  the  omnipotent  Christ,  were  vibrant  in  all 
his  words  and  in  every  tone  and  gesture  of  his  delivery. 

It  seems  to  me  that  it  were  an  irreparable  and  a  criminal  loss  to 
have  death  silence  so  signal  and  noble  an  utterance.  I  hope  most 
earnestly  that  his  large,  wise  thoughts  and  stirring  appeals  may  con- 
tinue to  be  heard  in  all  the  churches  through  the  printed  page.  Dead, 
may  his  clear  conscience,  and  his  holy  zeal,  and  his  Christly  love, 
speak  forever. 

From  Rev.  Dr.  Cyrus  Hamlin,  the  veteran  missionary 
of  the  American  Board,  having  been  forty  years  in  Tur- 
key : — 

I  regard  Dr.  Lawrence's  book  as  the  book  of  the  closing  decade  of 
the  nineteenth  century.  Other  admirable  books  have  been  written, 
but  not  one  that  can  take  the  place  of  this.  Accurate  observations 
on  the  mission  field,  noting  the  views  and  opinions  of  five  hundred 
missionaries,  each  one  on  his  own  field,  conversations  with  natives 
friendly  and  unfriendly,  and  very  careful  reconsideration  of  his 
abundant  notes,  were  the  fountains  from  which  this  remarkable  book 
was  drawn.    One  can  hardly  speak  of  it  too  highly. 

By  J.  Rutter  Williamson,  Secretary  of  the  Students'  Vol- 
unteer Missionary  Union,  London,  Eng: — 

It  gives  us  great  pleasure  to  write  about  Modern  Missions  in  the 
East,  whose  gifted  author  was  so  suddenly  taken  from  the  world  a 


298   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


couple  of  years  ago.  There  is  no  book,  as  far  as  we  know,  which 
deals  with  the  principles  and  philosophy  of  Missions  in  such  a  charm- 
ing and  masterly  way.  This  opinion  was  recently  confirmed  by  inde- 
pendent testimony  from  one  of  the  foremost  authorities  in  missionary 
literature.  There  are  but  three  books  we  dare  to  think  every 
volunteer  should  read.  They  are  the  Bible,  The  Holy  Spirit  in  Mis- 
sions, and  this  volume.  So  few  books  deal  with  the  problems  of  mis- 
sion life  in  the  wise  catholicity  and  clear  sagacity  that  is  needed  to 
call  its  readers  to  their  knees  in  prayer.  Mr.  Lawrence  writes  with 
the  wealth  of  illustration  of  a  Henry  Drummond,  and  with  the  de- 
lightful transparent  simplicity  of  Ruskin.  We  are  sure  after  reading 
it  many  a  volunteer  will  have  a  nobler  ideal  for  his  life  and  a  quicker 
sympathy  with  the  difficulties  of  those  already  in  the  field. 

From  Professor  Francis  G.  Peabody.  of    the  Divinity 

School,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge: — 

Modern  Missions  is  certainly  the  most  faithful  and  picturesque 
story  of  missionary'  work  I  have  ever  seen,  correcting  many  false  im- 
pressions and  entering  into  the  real  spirit  of  such  service.  It  should 
broaden  and  deepen  our  appreciation  of  Christian  devotion  to  read 
these  graphic  pages,  and  thev  seem  to  me  to  abound  in  the  beautiful 
spirit  of  your  son's  whole  life. 

From  Rev.  John  Phelps  Taylor,  Professor  in  Andover 

Theological  Seminary : — 

I  wish  to  express  my  delight  in  the  prospect  of  seeing  in  print  the 
Lectures  on  Modern  Missions  in  tlic  Hast  delivered  in  Andover  a 
few  years  since  by  your  accomplished  son.  They  who  were  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  be  Mr.  Lawrence's  hearers  were  charmed  with  the  beauty 
of  diction  and  wealth  of  matter,  with  the  breadth  and  balance  of  judg- 
ment, the  glow  of  zeal  and  devotion  and  with  a  humanity  and  nobil- 
ity of  tone,  which  were  keyed  to  the  rrfissionary  level  and  tended  to 
awaken  the  missionary  spirit.  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  it 
was  the  best  series  of  lectures  on  the  subject  that  I  ever  heard. 

From  Rev.  Dr.  James  L.  Barton,  formerly  a  missionary  in 

Turkey,  now  Secretary  of  the  American  Board: — 

Modern  Missions  is  a  constant  surprise  and  pleasure  to  the 
reader  who  is  conversant  with  mission  work.  It  is  a  surprise  that 
Dr.  Lawrence  was  able  to  obtain  such  a  correct  and  comprehensive 
view  of  the  methods  and  achievement  of  this  branch  of  modern 
church  work,  and,  at  the  same  time,  put  it  all  into  a  form  so  fascinat- 
ing. I  have  seen  no  work  which  is  so  generally  instructive  and  in- 
spiring upon  the  broad  subject  of  missions,  without  a  heavy  page  in  it 
from  beginning  to  end.  It  is  full  of  suggestions  for  the  missionary 
and  missionary  worker,  who  cannot  fail  to  profit  by  seeing  the  work 
through  the  eyes  of  so  keen  an  observer  and  so  wise  a  man  as  the 
author  of  this  book  shows  himself  to  be. 

SI 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

WITH  THE  CHURCH  AT  SING  SING. 

O  brave  soul !  O  strong,  true  heart ! 

Mighty  sentinel  on  eternal  battlements  of  right ! 

Thy  face  grows  with  the  light  of  truth  unforced  by  art. 

Thy  features  beacon  forth  a  transcendental  sight. 

Give  me  the  secret  of  thy  holy  labor  for  mankind, 

Lift  me  to  the  measure  of  thy  pure  and  lofty  mind. 

— Rev.  Frederic  Stanley  Root. 

Not  long  after  the  meeting  of  the  Association  Edward  ac- 
cepted an  invitation  from  Mr.  Truesdell,  a  prominent 
member  of  the  Presbyterian  church  in  Sing  Sing,  to  pass  a 
Sunday  at  his  house  with  a  mutual  Champlain  friend,  and 
also  to  preach  in  the  church.  As  the  pastor  was  in  Europe, 
this  led  tO'  Edward's  supplying  the  pulpit  for  a  few  months. 

As  it  was  vacation  in  Ossinning  School,  a  flourishing  in- 
stitution for  young  ladies  in  Sing  Sing,  and  as  Mrs.  Sher- 
rard,  who  looked  after  the  comfort  of  the  family,  was  willing 
to  receive  him  as  a  boarder,  he  made  his  home  there  for  the 
summer.  And  a  delightful  home  it  proved  in  every  way. 
The  inmates  of  the  household  were  most  congenial,  and 
from  his  room  in  an  upper  story  he  looked  out  on  his  be- 
loved Hudson,  which  was  always  an  inspiration  to  him. 

Early  in  Jtme  he  received  tidings  from  Syracuse,  which 
called  forth  the  following  letter: — 

June  13th,  1888. 

My  dear  Rose-stalk — that  bears  another  precious  rosebud  on  its 
stem.  I  thank  the  Giver  of  all  life  for  his  wondrous  gift  to  you. 
Everything  seems  to  tell  of  the  glad  news.  The  stars  winked  gravely 
last  night,  as  if  they  said,  "We  know  all  about  it.  There  is  a  little 
one  born  into  the  world."  The  leaves  say  in  their  rustling,  "Kleine 
Lichchcn."    And  the  great  sun  has  an  extra  smile  on  his  broad  face. 

The  sexless  spirit  looked  in  to  see  what  it  should  be.  It  heard  no 
girl's  name  uttered,  but  caught  the  sound — Wallace  Lawrence  Nims. 
"A  boy  I'll  be"  it  cried,  charmed  by  the  name!    And  so  a  boy  it  is. 


300   REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


I  w  ish  we  could  come  in  and  see  the  happy  trio.  But  we  shall  hope 
ere  long  to  meet  in  Marblehead.  Meantime,  may  his  majesty  flour- 
ish !  When  I  have  time  I  will  write  }-ou  full  instructions  what  to  do 
with  him,  and  how  to  begin  his  education. 

Your  loving  brother. 

Sing  Sing,  June  24th,  1888. 
I  never  took  a  railroad  journey  in  such  heat.  The  cars  were 
sweltering,  far  hotter  than  the  outside  air.  But  I  imagined  myself 
in  a  Turkish  bath,  just  fit  for  the  shampooing,  which  made  me  com- 
paratively comfortable.  I  was  at  the  nursery  end  of  the  car,  for  in 
the  five  seats  around  me  there  were  five  babies,  and  part  of  the  time  a 
quintette  of  rasping  babj-  voices. 

June  28th. 

The  night  boat  on  Wednesday  evening  took  me  to  New  Haven,  to 
attend  our  class  meeting.  .  .  About  twenty-five,  of  1888.  lunched 
at  Charley  Farnum's,  where  we  had  an  elegant  spread.  .  .  In  the 
evening  our  supper  was  at  Brothers  Hall,  not  breaking  up  till  half 
past  one.  There  was  wine  on  the  table,  but  having  made  my  protest 
before.  I  turned  my  glasses  down  and  drank  apollinaris.  About 
forty  of  our  class  were  present.  After  the  meal  came  toasts,  and 
among  them  "The  Lawyers,"  "The  Press,"  "The  Clergy,"  to  the  last 
of  which  I  responded. 

At  the  Aluinni  dinner  we  had  fine  speeches,  and  among  them  one 
from  President  Dwight,  full  of  wit.  There  was  great  enthusiasm  for 
Yale  and  the  University.  Afterwards.  I  called  on  old  friends  in  the 
city.  Altogether  it  was  a  delightful  visit,  bringing  me  nearer  my 
classmates  than  ever.  One  of  them  told  me  he  had  given  up  tobacco, 
which  he  found  was  injuring  him.  .  .  By  racing  from  one  train  to 
another  I  was  able  to  reach  here  at  half  past  nine. 

Sing  Sing,  July  3d,  1888. 

Last  night  I  attended  our  first  meeting  of  the  Session.  I  see  how 
much  more  red  tape  is  necessarj-  than  with  us.  because  they  are  re- 
sponsible to  higher  powers.  And  I  see,  too,  how,  sometimes,  that 
ma\'  be  well.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  real  missionan,-  activity  in  the 
church  here,  combined  with  docility  on  the  one  hand,  and  strong  con- 
5er\'atism  on  the  other. 

I  study  through  the  day  and  call  in  the  evening.  It  is  good  to  be 
living  and  working  among  people  again. 

July  8th. 

From  my  window  I  can  see  the  great  river  glistening  among  the 
Tjranches  of  the  trees.  Haverstraw  Bay,  five  miles  wide,  stretches 
away  to  the  north,  and  Croton  Point  thrusts  its  long  tongue  out  into 
the  river. 

There  is  much  organizing  work  to  be  done  here  among  the  young 
people,  and  willingness  and  desire  to  have  it  done.  The  church  has 
sprung  into  great  vigor  under  the  short  ministry  of  Mr.  Dwight,  who 
has  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and  whose  return  they  are  looking  for. 
I  have  preached  my  first  five  minutes'  sermon  to  the  children,  "Let 
your  light  shine." 

On  our  return  from  abroad,  we  became  acquainted  with 

IMrs.  Louise  Seymour  Houghton,  then  the  accomplished 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  301 


assistant  editor,  and  since  Dr.  Field's  resignation,  editor-in- 
cliief  of  the  New  York  Evangelist.  From  her,  after  Ed- 
ward's departure,  came  the  following  comforting  words: — 
"Your  dear  son's  career  is  not  cut  short,  is  not  blighted. 
I  like  so  much  what  Dr.  Briggs  said  at  Washington,  that 
the  saints  in  light  are  occupied  in  teaching  the  little  chil- 
dren and  devout  heathen.  With  your  son's  fine  powers,  his 
deep  experience  and  broad  culture,  what  work  may  he  not 
be  doing  for  his  master  in  unfolding  to  devout  Buddhists 
or  Agnostics  even,  the  mysteries  of  redeeming  love,  ex- 
plaining to  them  those  glorious  truths  that  have  been  hid- 
den from  'the  wise  and  prudent.'  And  he  is  waiting  for 
you,  and  you  can  wait  for  him  as  if  he  were  across  the 
ocean  to  be  gone  an  indefinite  time." 

Sing  Sing,  July  13th,  1888. 
I  have  been  thinking  much  about  my  future  work,  wondering  what 
it  is  to  be,  glad  that  I  have  not  to  decide,  sure  that  the  path  will  be 
made  plain.  I  was  perfectly  clear  that  it  was  not  my  duty  to  accept 
the  call  of  which  I  wrote  you,  because  it  would  be  the  old  story  of 
ministering  entirely  to  the  church,  instead  of  through  the  church  to 
the  varied  needs  of  a  mixed  and  enlarging  community.  This  is  the 
best  time  of  my  life  for  active,  upbuilding  work.  I  am  inclined  to  go 
to  the  West  and  look  over  the  field  on  the  ground.  I  cannot  .-ay  that 
I  feel  best  fitted  for  real  pioneer  work,  though  heartily  ready  for  it, 
if  that  is  shown  to  be  the  thing.  I  suppose  one's  fitness  should  be 
consulted.  And  in  the  raw  West  I  fancy  there  must  be  a  certain 
roughness  of  manner  and  style  to  do  the  best  work.  Yet  new  work 
in  some  growing  city  might  give  opportunity  to  use  all  one's  past  ex- 
perience and  acquirements,  and  at  the  same  time  to  do  thorough  mis- 
sionary work. 

The  more  I  see  how  men  press  themselves  on  the  churches,  the 
stronger  is  my  purpose  to  do  nothing  of  that  sort.  Nor  can  I  work 
to  get  myself  appointed  lecturer.  It  goes  too  much  against  the  grain. 
If  my  lectures  can  help  the  good  cause,  it  will  be  indicated.  It  is  God's 
work.  I  want  to  be  well  prepared  to  do  that  work,  but  without  a 
thought  of  self-advancement.  Meantime,  this  work  is  providential, 
and  I  am  happy  in  it. 

While  in  Marblehead,  Edward  had  joined  one  of  the 
semi-weekly  classes  for  oratory,  in  Emerson  College.  And 
he  was  so  much  benefited  that  he  concluded  to  attend 
Pres.  Emerson's  summer  course  at  Martha's  Vineyard. 
He  was,  therefore,  very  glad  to  learn  when  visiting  at 


302   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Westfield  the  bereaved  father  and  mother  of  Mrs.  Craw- 
ford of  Brousa,  that  he  would  meet  them  at  the  Vineyard. 

Cottage  City,  July  17th,  1888. 
On  the  dock  I  met  Principal  Greenough  kindly  waiting  for  me,  and 
after  dinner  we  scoured  the  region  in  search  of  a  room.    I  finally 

settled  down,  or  rather  nfi,  in  this  Eagles'  Nest.  It  is  a  tower  room 
and  one  of  the  coziest  little  nooks  to  be  found.  It  is  about  eight  feet 
square  at  the  bottom,  shrinking  to  five  feet  at  the  top,  the  height  also 
being  about  eight  feet.  A  little  cot-bed,  a  wash  shelf,  a  chair,  a 
board  in  the  window,  and  a  few  nails  comprise  the  furniture.  In  fact, 
it  is  just  a  snug  stateroom,  such  as  I  have  lived  in  so  many  weeks. 
When  the  tower  rocks  I  fancy  myself  at  sea.  There  are  little 
windows  on  the  three  sides,  through  which  comes  a  fresh  breeze.  I 
am  writing  on  a  board  ck  the  window.  It  is  delightful  to  lie  on  my 
bed  and  look  out  over  the  oak  trees  and  across  the  blue  ocean. 

At  the  first  gathering  of  the  school,  I  noticed  a  young  lady  whose 
face  I  was  compelled  to  study,  and  found  afterwards  it  was  a  Miss 
Watson,  daughter  of  our  old  East  Windsor  friends.  Her  mother,  on 
whom  I  called,  has  a  cottage  here  where  they  pass  their  summers, 
her  daughters  taking  fine  sketches,  and  one  of  them  being  a  very  suc- 
cessful teacher  of  painting. 

Professor  Dwight  of  Vassar  College  is  spending  his  summer  vaca- 
tion here  as  usual,  giving  instruction  in  his  special  department.  I  am 
very  glad  to  join  his  afternoon  class  in  zoology,  working  also  with 
the  microscope.  My  plan  is  to  take  a  swim  before  breakfast,  which 
is  at  half  past  seven,  and  then  oratory  from  nine  till  eleven. 

Through  Principal  Greenough's  introduction,  I  have  engaged  to 
speak,  next  Sunday  evening,  in  the  Agassiz  Hall,  on  "The  Grain  of 
Mustard  Seed."    I  intend  shortly  to  make  a  visit  at  Nantucket. 

July  2 1  St. 

We  were  dissecting  a  lobster,  yesterday,  when  the  boat  whistled, 
and  I  had  to  run  to  catch  it.  .  .  I  have  just  come  in  from  a  stroll 
about  Nantucket.  It  is  not  as  quaint  as  Marblehead,  nor  is  the 
stream  of  summer  travel  shunted  off  the  main  town  as  with  us.  Con- 
sequently, the  whole  has  a  watering-place  aspect.  I  have  seen  but  one 
three-story  house  like  ours,  and  none  of  the  old  style  quite  equals 
Linden  Home.  Nor  are  the  streets  as  crooked,  or  the  coast  as  wild. 
But  there  is  fine,  warm  bathing  all  along,  both  surf  and  still  water,  far 
better  than  anything  we  have.  I  have  seen  the  North  Church,  where 
Cousin  Samuel  Hosmer  used  to  preach. 

I  am  off  this  noon,  back  to  Cottage  City.  Dr.  Emerson  informs  me 
that  I  am  to  be  a  guest  in  his  school  while  here.  And  Professor 
Dwight  would  not  hear  of  any  fee.  so  I  am.  perforce,  a  dead-head. 
Then  the  Greenoughs  are  as  kind  as  possible,  Mrs.  G.  looking  after 
me  like  a  mother,  while  every  evening  Mr.  Greenough  and  I  take  a 
long  walk  together. 

Although  Principal  Greenough  saw  but  little  of  Edward, 

yet,  as  he  says,  some  years  later,  it  was  sufficient  to  deeply 

impress  him  with  his  rare  qualities. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


Mr.  Lawrence  had  a  remarkable  power  of  analysis,  with  great 
breadth  of  vision  and  broad  scholarship.  When  I  met  him,  soon 
after  his  return  from  abroad,  he  was  unemployed  as  a  pastor.  In 
our  conversations,  I  found  that  opportunities  were  not  wanting  to 
him  to  settle  in  cultured  communities;  but,  said  he,  "I  long  to  work 
for  the  destitute  and  neglected,  those  who  especially  need  help."  I 
was,  therefore,  surprised  when  I  learned  that  he  had  accepted  a 
pastorate  in  Baltimore.  But  I  soon  found  that  he  had  planned  to 
work  with  the  church  and  through  it,  for  the  saving  of  the  poor  and 
the  degraded. 

Prof.  Dwight  also  writes: — "Your  son  was  the  soul  of 
frankness  and  honesty;  his  face  was  open,  his  speech  was 
outspoken,  his  yea  was  yea,  his  nay  was  nay.  Yet  he  was 
courteous,  considerate,  eminently  gentle  and  thoughtful  of 
the  good  of  others  and  of  their  feelings. 

"He  was  very  able  as  a  thinker  and  as  a  writer,  and  ef- 
fective as  a  speaker,  especially  by  reason  of  the  absolute 
clearness  of  his  thought  and  diction;  yet  he  always  held 
much  of  his  power  in  reserve. 

"He  had  a  nobility  of  character  which  could  not  fail  to 
make  him  a  daily  and  priceless  treasure  and  solace  to  his 
mother.  For  one,  I  am  exceedingly  thankful  that  the 
providential  orderings  of  my  life  brotight  me  into  acqain- 
tance  with  him  and  that  I  may  rightly  claim  a  place  among 
those  who  mourn  for  him." 

Sunday,  it  poured  all  day,  but  I  had  in  the  evening  a  surprisingly 
large  number  of  young  people  for  my  talk. 

This  afternoon  we  had  a  fine  collecting  expedition  with  Professor 
Dwight,  wading  the  whole  afternoon  in  the  water,  the  ladies  having 
donned  their  bathing  suits. 

Love  to  the  darling  young  mother  and  the  precious  young  boy  and 
the  beloved  young  grandmother.  I  suppose  all  you  womenkind  are 
occupied  with  that  boy.  Bless  his  little  heart !  He  came  down  into 
a  snug  nest,  when  he  might  have  been  born  in  the  gutter.  .  .  As 
to  your  letters,  which  you  are  collecting  for  me,  I  want  the  most 
characteristic.  [Alas !  they  are  never  to  be  put  into  his  hands  1]  .  .  . 
I  am  charmed  with  zoology,  but  Marblehead  has  a  far  better  coast  for 
collecting  than  Martha's  Vineyard. 

According  to  a  previous  arrangement,  Edward  spent  the 

last  Sunday  of  July  in  Pouglikeepsie,  where  he  preached 

for  Dr.  Van  Gieson,  of  the  First  Dutch  Reformed  church, 

being  the  guest  of  Mr.  Henry  Pelton,  with  whom  he  had 


304   REMIXISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


been  so  intimately  associated  in  the  Qiarity  Organization 
and  other  work.  July  30th,  he  writes, — "The  Poughkeepsie 
visit  was  very  pleasant.  The  Peltons  are  excellent  hosts. 
The  congregation,  morning  and  evening,  was  large,  many 
of  my  old  people  being  there.  I  went  home  to  dinner  with 
dear,  good  Miss  Storm,  meeting  a  host  of  her  cousins." 

On  returning  to  Cottage  City  to  complete  the  term  he 
writes: — "It  fell  to  me  to  read  Coleridge's  Hymn  to  Mont 
Blanc,  and  I  had  the  delight  of  getting  into  it  and  out  of 
myself  as  seldom  before.  The  time  from  eleven  to  twelve 
was  taken  up  with  recitations  by  the  teachers,  most  of 
which  were  as  fine  as  am-thing  I  ever  heard. 

"In  parting  with  Dr.  Emerson,  he  said  to  me,  'Whenever 
you  can  be  here  for  short  or  for  long, — the  longer  the  bet- 
ter,— I  want  you  to  come  and  pay  the  same  tuition  you 
have  been  paying  the  last  session,'  adding  that  I  had  been  a 
help  to  him  and  the  school,  which  it  was  ver\-  pleasant  to 
hear.  I  have  never  had  a  teacher  from  whom  I  have  gained 
so  much  in  so  short  a  time :  never,  I  think,  one  who  has 
given  me  so  much  stimulus  with  instruction.  I  never  knew 
such  an  atmosphere  as  his  in  any  other  school, — sympathy, 
appreciation,  aspiration. 

President  Emerson  writes  me: — 

I  found  your  son  a  man  of  rare  culture,  and.  therefore,  he  made 
rapid  progress  in  the  study  of  oratory-.  He  had  quick  perceptions  of 
what  was  finest,  most  beautiful,  and  upbuilding  in  the  highest  order 
of  literature.  He  loved  truth  and  realin-  and  could  not  endure  sham 
and  pretence.  He  seemed  to  me  an  ideal  character.  If  he  had  a 
fault  it  consisted  in  entertaining  too  modest  an  estimate  of  his  own 
abilities.  His  influence  on  the  other  students  was  most  elevating. 
One  could  not  meet  him.  however  casually,  without  receiving  an  im- 
pulse to  a  higher  life.  There  is  nothing  beautiful  in  human  nature 
which  he  did  not  see  and  appreciate.  Indeed,  so  full  was  he  of  the 
sense  of  beautj-,  love  and  worship  that  his  very  presence  revealed  new 
possibilities  of  living.  Such  a  sainth'  soul !  I  loved  him  as  I  love 
but  ver3-,  ver\'  few.  The  dear,  blessed  man  has  found  the  heaven  for 
which  he  was  so  well  prepared. 

The  baptism  of  his  sister's  little  one  had  been  deferred 
till  he  could  be  with  them.   While  he  was  at  Linden  Home. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


305 


this  summer,  therefore,  on  August  21st,  1888,  a  pleasant 
company  was  gathered,  George  Constantine,  the  Greek 
friend  of  their  youth,  recently  from  Smyrna,  being  present 
and  making  the  prayer.  Edward  then  took  the  baby  in  his 
arms  and  baptized  him  with  water  which  he  had  brought 
from  the  river  Jordan — Wallace  Lawrence  Nims.  And 
the  little  fellow  behaved  with  great  propriety,  looking  up  in 
his  face  as  if  conscious  of  the  dignity  of  the  occasion. 

Sing  Sing,  Aug.  26th,  iS58. 

It  is  good  to  be  welcomed  back  here,  and  I  feel  as  if  I  could  work 
with  new  life  and  strength. 

Oh,  how  beautiful  is  this  river !  A  sweet  blue  in  the  foreground, 
the  line  of  clear  cut  green  shore  just  beyond,  and  back  of  that  a  hazy 
stretch  of  cloud-like  hills.  How  I  long  for  a  settled  home,  thoroughly 
my  own  !  Those  days  at  Marblehead  were  delightful,  and  will  be  long 
remembered.  Are  you  still  wading  through  the  floods  of  memory  in 
those  letters?  I  am  very  glad  that  I  have  read  some  of  your  corres- 
pondence. 

You  will  understand  how  much  gratified  I  have  been  by  the  strong 
expressions  of  preference  for  my  unwritten  sermons  by  some  of  my 
most  intelligent  hearers.  A  new  joy  in  the  service  of  Christ  seems  to 
come  to  me. 

The  other  day  I  paid  a  visit  to  my  prison  friends, — the  Brushes. 
He  is  warden  of  the  prison  and  never  able  to  be  at  church.  But  his 
son  and  daughters  are  quite  regular  in  their  attendance,  and  the 
daughters,  being  stenographers,  have  made  reports  of  my  sermons, 
and  have  promised  me  a  copy  of  those  that  are  extempore.  I  go  down 
this  week  for  a  prison  inspection.  Under  the  present  law,  the  hun- 
dreds there  are  idle,  simply  being  marched  out  for  exercise  two  or 
three  times  a  day. 

Yesterday  afternoon  I  took  charge  of  the  Gospel  Temperance 
prayer-meeting,  a  mixed  company  of  Adidlamites,  where  dear  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Cady  are  the  regulators.  And  every  day  I  am  more  in  love 
wth  the  view  from  my  window. 

Ossinning  Institute,  Sept.  20th,  1888. 

Yesterday  a  company  of  eleven  from  our  school,  with  a  number  of 
others,  left  the  dock  in  a  sailboat  for  High  Tor.  It  is  a  single  peak  on 
the  other  side,  from  which  you  have  a  broad  view  in  every  direction, 
not  wide,  rugged  or  grand,  but  varied,  noble  and  charming,  the  river 
itself  up  to  Peekskill  being  the  centre  of  the  whole.  And  it  was  a 
most  appreciating  company. 

I  am  duly  installed  as  chaplain,  conducting  the  worship  of  the 
school,  which  is  very  pleasant  to  me. 

As  to  the  question  of  remaining  here  until  spring  as  acting  pastor, 
I  shall  not  probably  decide  until  I  come  home  and  can  talk  it  over 
with  you.  I  see  much  to  be  done,  and  shall  have  hearty  co-operation 
in  doing  it.  The  people  have  throughout  manifested  their  loyalty  to 
Mr.  Dwight  and  their  fidelity  to  me  in  a  remarkable  way.   One  im- 


3o6   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


portant  element  in  my  decision  will  be  my  mother's  happiness.  We 
might  rent  the  house  Mr.  Dwight  has  occupied,  or  go  into  a  boarding- 
house.  They  would  like  to  have  you  come  right  here  to  the  school, 
and  would  do  everything  in  their  power  to  make  us  comfortable. 

Oct.  I2th. 

Your  decision  to  make  your  home  with  me  at  Ossinning  Institute 
was  very  satisfactor>'  to  us  all.  .  .  Wednesday  being  a  perfect 
day,  I  improved  the  opportunity  and  had  a  glorious  walk  of  fifteen 
miles  to  the  Palisades.. 

Edward  went  to  Linden  Home  for  a  few  days  and  was 
amused  at  the  inquiring  glances  of  the  officials  at  the  dif- 
ferent stations  on  his  presenting  his  check  from  Sing  Sing. 
To  these  glances  he  was  wont  to  reply. — "They  have  let 
me  out  for  a  little  while." 

Ossinning  Institute,  Nov.  2d. 

My  visit  at  home,  dear  mother,  was  very  precious.  The  old  house 
grows  dearer  all  the  time  with  all  the  added  memories.  I  wish  we 
might  carry  it  with  us.  .  .  The  parting  must  have  been  harder 
than  usual,  if  you  could  get  no  relief  by  setting  things  to  right  in 
your  closets  and  bureaux  as  you  generally  do. 

My  beautiful  tree  has  hardly  a  leaf  left  upon  it.  But  the  sweeping 
away  of  these  beauties  has  opened  out  a  broader  prospect  all  along 
the  river.    As  the  near  drops  away  the  distant  becomes  visible. 

I  am  getting  ready  for  the  winter  and  its  work.  I  must  say  that  it 
is  a  great  satisfaction  to  labor  in  a  community  where  there  is  no  re- 
ligious controversy  or  theological  suspicion  in  the  air.  Yet  there 
must  be  conflict  for  progress,  and  I  would  not  shrink  from  my  part  of 
it. 

Nov.  6th. 

I  am  beginning  to  make  pastoral  calls  under  the  new  arrangement 
which  was  announced  to  the  people  last  Sunday. 

Last  night  was  the  final  Republican  parade,  and  Ossinning  was 
beautifuly  illuminated.  After  it  was  all  past  and  the  girls  in  bed,  it 
was  suddenly  suggested  we  should  follow  it.  At  once,  seven  or  eight 
teachers,  under  the  escort  of  ]\Ir.  Lovell  and  myself,  sallied  forth  and 
chased  up  the  procession.  That  was  reversing  the  usual  order  of 
things,  teachers  going  out  "unbeknownst"  to  the  scholars.  I  wonder 
if  you  ever  had  such  an  escapade. 

I  have  begun  Martineau's  Study  of  Religion.  What  a  marvellous 
mind  and  style !  And  here  the  style  is  the  man.  So  graceful,  yet  so 
grand!  So  keen,  delicate,  majestic!  IMore  than  almost  any  writer 
of  to-day  he  has  the  power  of  expressing  the  inexpressible,  of  fixing 
in  words  the  subtlest,  most  evanescent  shades  of  thought,  of  bodying 
forth  sublime  meanings.  His  statements  are  often  arguments,  his 
words,  battles.  I  am  thankful  that  he  has  been  spared  to  publish 
these  two  grand  volumes. 

While  in  London,  so  great  had  been  Edward's  interest  in 
Mr.  Martineau's  philosophical  and  religious  essays,  that  he 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  307 


took  his  mother  more  than  once  to  hear  him  preach.  And 

it  was  always  a  great  pleasure  to  recall  the  delig-htful 
evening  we  passed  on  our  first  visit  to  London  at  his  house, 
where  we  found  him  a  most  genial  as  well  as  entertaining 
host.  His  friends  understood  that  he  had  little  sympathy 
with  his  sister  Harriett's  religious  views. 

A  charming,  and  it  might  be  said,  romantic  visit  Edward 
made  with  his  mother  at  Eagleswood  Park,  Perth  Amboy, 
the  home  of  Mrs.  Rebecca  Bufifum  Spring,  an  old  friend  of 
whom  his  mother  had  lost  sight  for  fifty  years  or  more. 

Rebecca's  father,  Mr.  Buffum,  was  the  first  president  of 
the  first  Anti  Slavery  Society  in  Boston;  and  his  daughter 
was  in  close  sympathy  with  him.  It  was  after  her  marriage 
that  she  made  her  way  through  many  dangers  and  difficul- 
ties to  Virginia  to  visit  John  Brown  and  his  followers  in 
prison  and  do  what  she  could  to  mitigate  their  sufferings. 
In  writing  me,  Mrs.  Spring  says: — 

Aaron  Stevens  was  the  only  one  of  the  prisoners  I  saw  besides 
John  Brown,  for  the  fearful  mob  which  filled  the  street  declared  that 
if  I  was  allowed  to  remain  longer  in  the  prison,  they  would  tear  it 
down  and  kill  every  one  in  it.  When  the  great  prison  door  closed  be- 
hind nie  I  stood  on  the  little  platform  with  my  son,  looking  down  up- 
on a  sea  of  angry  faces,  and  did  not  feel  afraid,  as  I  had  caught  the 
martyr  spirit  within. 

Alfred  Stevens  had  joined  John  Brown  in  Kansas,  worked  and 
suffered  with  him,  hiding  behind  hay-ricks,  sleeping  in  barns  or  on 
the  ground,  suffering  cold  and  hunger,  but  keeping  Kansas  free. 
Stevens  was  called  the  St.  John  of  the  company.  The  jailor.  Avis, 
became  much  attached  to  him,  saying  "I  can  never  put  the  rope  round 
his  neck." 

His  feet  were  chained  together,  and  he  wrote  me,  "I  can  take  a 
half  step,  and  go  clanking  round  the  room;  the  worst  is  that  I  have 
to  wear  manacles  at  night."  When  it  was  proposed  to  chain  him  to 
the  floor,  the  jailor  said,  "If  any  more  irons  are  put  on  him  somebody 
besides  me  will  have  to  do  it." 

I  offered  to  have  him  buried  at  our  place,  and  he  wrote: — "Death 
has  no  terrors  for  me ;  at  the  same  time  I  should  like  to  live  as  long 
as  I  can  do  any  good." 

Another  of  the  prisoners,  Absalom  Haslett,  wrote  me: — "I  thank 
you  for  what  you  have  sent  Mr.  Stevens ;  he  has  always  shared  every- 
thing with  me.  You  have  offered  to  have  him  buried  at  your  place. 
Will  you  let  me  be  buried  by  him?  I  am  willing  to  die  in  the  cause 
of  liberty.  If  I  had  ten  thousand  lives  I  would  give  tnem  all  in  the 
cause." 


* 


3o8    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


There  they  lie,  in  our  grounds,  Stevens,  twenty-seven,  Haslett, 
twenty-two,  and  the  whole  land  is  free.  On  each  memorial  stone  is 
engraved : — 

"Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life 
for  his  friends." 

Of  Mrs.  Spring's  interesting  personal  history  I  will  not 
speak,  but  will  give  the  letter  she  wrote  when  she  heard  of 
my  great  sorrow: — 

Los  Angeles  California. 

Oh  my  Margaret !  How  did  it  happen  ?  That  beautiful  life, — so 
needed,  so  dear; — how  could  you  bear  it? 

I  am  glad  I  saw  him.  I  am  very  glad  he  came  with  you  to  Eagles- 
wood.  Do  you  remember  how  he  went  out  and  took  the  scythe  and 
surprised  the  man  by  his  knowing  how  to  hold  and  use  it  better  than 
he  did,  and  how  the  man  was  moved  by  his  kind  and  lovely  way  of 
teaching  him,  and  thought  him  the  kindest  and  most  perfect  gentle- 
man, as  he  was.  I  have  not  a  word  of  consolation  to  utter,  dear 
friend ;  but  I  am  deeply  grieved  for  you.  How  different  the  rest  of 
your  life  will  be — all  the  new  hopes  given  up — the  new  home  that  was 
to  be,  all  so  changed.    God  give  you  strength  to  bear  it ! 

Ossinning  Institute,  Nov.  21st. 

I  have  been  much  occupied  the  last  few  days  in  getting  our  Chris- 
tian Service  Society  started.  Last  night  we  had  the  first  sociable 
here.  The  ladies  of  the  Institute  helped  me  greatly  in  all  the  arrange- 
ments, and  now  the  society  is  fairly  launched. 

Mrs.  William  E.  Dodge  had  kindly  invited  Edward's 

mother  to  pass  a  week  with    her.    November   28th,  he 

writes: — "I  was  in  New  York  yesterday  and  had  a  pleasant 

call  on  Mrs.  Dodge.    She  will  expect  you  December  loth. 

Dinner  at  six  o'clock,  to  which  I  have  promised  to  stay. 

She  will  send  her  carriage  for  you,  and  she  showed  me  her 

coachman,  so  that  I  might  know  him  when  he  meets  tis  at 

the  station." 

From  a  delightful  visit  with  Mrs.  Dodge,  his  mother 

went  to  Sing  Sing,  where  she  passed  two  or  three  weeks 

very  pleasantly,  going  from  there  to  Syracuse. 

Sing  Sing,  Dec.  4th,  188R 
I  go  up  again  to  Poughkeepsie,  next  week,  to  read  my  paper, 
"Among  the  Thcosophists  of  India."  before  Vassar  Institute.  Then  I 
have  promised,  if  possible,  to  address  the  students  at  Vassar  College 
on  Missions.  And  I  have  just  engaged  to  prepare  a  course  of  lectures 
on  the  Evidences  of  Christianity,  to  be  given  at  Ossinning  Institute, 
open  to  the  pulilic.  So,  with  all  the  work  of  the  church,  my  hands 
will  be  full.  The  Christian  Service  Society  moves  on  finely,  sixty- 
five  at  our  prayer  meeting,  over  thirty  taking  part,  with  no  time  for 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE.  JR.  309 


more,  and  singing  that  makes  the  rafters  ring.  I  commence  a  teach- 
ers' meeting  this  week.    I  am  very  well  and  most  happy  in  my  work. 

Sing  Sing,  Jan.  16,  1889. 

My  dear  birthday  Sister: — 

What  a  different  birthday  this  would  have 
been  if  you  had  not  come  at  all !  I  wonder  if  this  fact  has  kept  me  a 
bachelor — a  birthday  sister  !  If  you  had  come  seven  years  earlier  we 
should  have  been  twins.  But  the  one  who  came  then  might  not  have 
been  you.  Your  soul  might  not  have  got  round  in  time  to  go  into 
that  particular  body.  So  it  would  have  been  some  one  else's  soul  in 
your  body,  or  your  soul  in  some  one  else's  body.  I  don't  know 
which.  And  since  it  is  so  very  uncertain  how  the  matter  would  have 
turned  out,  I  will  leave  it  just  as  it  is,  and  thank  God  for  you  just 
as  you  are,  and  as  you  are  going  to  be. 

But  there  is  a  good  deal  more  of  you  this  year  than  last.  You  are 
two  wholes,  you  see,  and  a  better  half.  Only  the  better  half  is  a 
baby.  I  suppose  the  doctor  will  kill  the  fatted  calf,  not  because  you 
have  been  a  prodigal,  but  because  you  haven't. 

Hereafter  we  may  celebrate  the  day  of  our  birth  into  heaven.  Per- 
haps it  will  be  of  the  recurring  centuries  or  millenniums.  And  all 
will  be  together  then.  How  strange  to  think  a  few  million  years 
ahead,  and  of  continual  growth  in  love  and  God.  Ah,  well,  we  are 
blind  kittens  now.    We  shall  get  our  eyes  opened  there. 

You  know  the  little  fellow  who  did  not  want  to  be  "born  again," 
"for  fear  I  might  be  born  a  lassie,  sir!" 

Your  loving  brother, 

Ned. 

Sing  Sing,  Jan.  i6th,  1889. 

My  dear  Mother: — 

Forty-two  years  ago  to-day  I  did  not  amount  to 
much.  Now  you  will  hold  up  your  hands  in  surprise  that  it  was  so 
long  ago.  Yet  what  a  tiny  step  I  have  made  nut  into  the  eternities  ! 
A  few  centuries  from  now  I  shall  look  back  and  see  how  very  little  I 
amounted  to  when  I  was  forty-two  years  old.  But  I  am,  probably, 
two-thirds  through  my  work  here.  It  remains  to  the  last  third  to  do 
mv  very  best.  And  I  think  last  Sunday  was  one  of  the  best  of  my 
life. 

Feb.  7th,  1889. 

The  view  from  my  window  seems  more  beautiful  every  da  v.  And 
I  grow  every  day  more  attached  to  our  family.  As  the  distinguish- 
ing characteristics  of  the  teachers  come  out,  and  personal  elements 
and  relations  appear,  it  is  all  the  more  interesting.  The  problem  of 
school  life,  too,  grows  more  and  more  attractive. 

So,  dear  mother,  you  have  discovered  that  you  are  too  old  to  be 
with  us,  and  must  retire  into  some  home.  Then  I  am  too  old  for  the 
pulpit.  Let  us  move  to  Poughkeepsie,  and  then  go  you  to  the  Old 
Ladies'  and  I  to  the  Old  Men's  Home.  We  can  exchange  visits,  and 
possibly  I  may  get  a  Bible  class  in  my  old  church. 

Sing  Sing,  Feb.  13th. 
Last  Sunday  we  had  four  volunteer  students  here,  who  are  all  go- 
ing out  as  missionaries.    They  took  the  whole  time  of  the  Sunday 


3IO    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


School,  and  the  evening  was  given  up  to  them.  This  afternoon  the 
women's  meeting  is  addressed  by  Dr.  Atterbury,  a  medical  mission- 
ary, whom  I  visited  in  Pekin.  We  hope  to  bring  the  church  up  to  the 
point  of  raising  a  thousand  dollars  a  year  for  the  supportof  a  mission- 
ary family.  And  better  still,  we  hope  to  have  some  of  our  young 
people  go  out  as  our  representatives.  The  best  of  all  is  that  the  more 
the  people  get  of  this  the  better  they  seem  to  like  it. 

In  speaking  of  the  conversion  of  a  Nova  Scotian  civil  en- 
gineer and  a  hard  case,  from  hearing  his  sermon  on  the 
Prodigal  son,  he  says,  "Is  not  this  worth  coming  to  Sing 
Sing  for?" 

Edward  had  been  repeatedly  urged  to  go  to  Fargo,  Da- 
kota, but  the  way  had  not  seemed  clear.  About  this  time  he 
writes: — "I  must  confess  I  am  relieved  that  Fargo  is  sup- 
plied.   I  wrote  them  to  find  another  man,  if  possible. 

Sing  Sing,  Feb.  19th. 

I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  valentine  I  received, — a  remark- 
able piece  of  art  and  fun — the  work  of  our  art-teacher.  I  haven't 
laughed  so  much  for  months.    You  shall  see  it  when  you  come. 

There  has  been  splendid  skating  on  the  river,  and  my  family  and  I 
used  it  to  the  best  advantage. 

Early  in  March,  his  friend,  Mr.  Hall,  from  Plattsburg, 

joined  him  in  New  York,  and  went  on  with  him  to  attend 

President  Harrison's   inauguration  at  Washington,  from 

which  place  Edward  writes: — 

I  am  struck  with  the  number  of  colored  people,  of  all  sorts  and 
hues,  some  very  intelligent,  most  with  the  childlikeness  .of  the  race. 
Saturday  was  our  only  time  for  Congress,  as  it  adjourns  before  Mon- 
day. The  flags  were  flying  from  both  wings,  indicating  a  Sunday 
session,  but  not  for  us.  It  was  a  day  of  last  things,  when  many  bills 
were  being  swiftly  railroaded  through,  and  at  the  same  time  much 
filibustering.  There  was  such  a  din  and  clatter  that  it  was  hard  to 
see  how  any  business  could  go  on : — the  galleries  whispering,  the 
members  talking,  others  shouting  at  the  speaker,  the  speaker  point- 
ing at  and  shouting  at  all,  the  sonorous  voice  of  the  clerk  meantime 
ringing  out  bill  after  bill.  I  saw  the  members  vote  a  bill  of  about 
two  hundred  sections,  appropriating  some  twenty  million  dollars,  in 
about  one  minute.  The  committee,  however,  had  spent  some  two 
months  in  considering  it.  The  Senate  presented  a  marked  contrast 
to  the  hubbub  of  the  House. 

On  Tuesday,  by  standing  two  hours  under  umbrellas  in  the  rain  in 
a  great  crowd,  we  at  last  saw  the  President  take  the  oath  of  office, 
and  heard  the  Inaugural.  They  illustrated  Protection  by  holding  an 
umbrella  over  the  President's  head  to  shield  him  from  heaven's  free 
trade  in  rain. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


Then  we  rushed  for  our  seats  at  the  other  end  of  the  Avenue, 
where,  for  three  hours,  under  cover,  we  saw  the  procession  salute  the 
Presidential  party  in  their  stand  just  opposite  us.  The  finest  thing  in 
the  procession  was  the  marching  and  music  of  the  Seventh  New 
York  regiment.  Colonel  Cody,  with  some  of  his  cowboys,  elicited 
great  applause.  A  huge  mastif?  labelled  "Protection"  walked  in  tlie 
procession. 

I  shouldn't  care  to  come  twice  on  such  an  occasion,  but  I  am  very 
glad  to  have  been  here  once. 

Ossinning,  April  19th,  1889. 
I  will  come  down  to  pass  Monday  night  with  you,  as  proposed,  at 
Mr.  Minasian's,  lunching  Tuesday  at  Dr.  Prentiss's,  and  seeing  you 
on  your  way  to  East  Orange.  I  want  you  to  come  here,  at  the  latest, 
by  the  middle  of  next  week,  and  stay  until  you  go  to  Lakewood. 
What  a  good  letter  from  that  Roman  Catholic  priest ! 

The  letter  was  from,  a  priest  in  Canada,  who  entered 
heartily  into  the  tobacco  crusade. 

We  greatly  enjoyed  our  anticipated  visits  in  Brooklyn 
with  the  Minasians  and  other  friends,  and  had  a  delightful 
nooning  at  Dr.  Prentiss's,  of  Union  Theological  Seminary, 
with  his  beloved  daughter  as  our  hostess. 

The  following  letter  gives  the  Doctor's  impressions  of 
that  visit: — 

From  my  long  acquaintance  with  the  father  and  mother  of  Edward 
Lawrence,  I  had  watched  his  career  with  peculiar  interest,  and  had 
come  to  think  of  him  as  destined  to  make  a  special  mark  upon  his 
generation  as  a  Christian  leader  and  worker.  His  endowments,  both 
intellectual  and  moral,  were  of  a  high  order,  while  his  education 
was  signally  fitted  to  develope  them  in  strength  and  beauty.  Ties  of 
kindred  and  early  environment  brought  him  into  vital  contact  with 
the  best  culture  of  New  England ;  and  to  this  were  added  the  ad- 
vantages of  study  in  Germany,  and  of  foreign  travel. 

Although  my  personal  acquaintance  with  him  was  slight,  yet  my 
recollections  of  him  are  exceedingly  pleasant.  He  was  every  inch  a 
Christian  scholar  and  gentleman.  In  expressing  his  convictions,  de- 
cision of  character  was  very  striking,  but  not  more  so  than  his 
modest  and  quiet  tone.  His  tone,  indeed,  was  the  man  himself,  and 
you  felt  it  in  all  he  said  and  did.  I  recall  with  great  interest  a  visit 
that  he  made  at  my  house  with  his  mother  in  1889,  reminding  me 
vividly  of  his  father,  his  uncle,  Leonard  Woods,  Louisa  Payson  Hop- 
kins, Henry  B.  Smith  and  wife,  and  other  old  friends. 

But  the  deepest  and  tenderest  impression  of  that  visit — deepest  at 
the  time  and  tenderest  still — was  the  beautiful  devotion  of  the  son  to 
the  mother.  Never  did  I  see  filial  affection  express  inself  in  a  man- 
lier way,  and  the  scene  always  comes  back  to  me  when  I  think  of 
Edward  Lawrence. 


312    REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Sing  Sing.  April  23d.  1889. 

My  Darling  Sister: — 

The  Lord  is  risen !  Thank  God  for  that ! 

And  the  doctor  is  better.  Thank  God  for  that,  too !  I  can  share 
j-our  joy  in  the  recover^-.  How  we  gain  love  for  those  we  nurse !  I 
am  glad  you  have  been  having  experience  in  marketing.  We  have 
had  pleasant  visits  in  Brooklyn.  Mr.  Minasian's  daughter  is  a  girl 
I  wish  you  knew — lovely,  simple,  engaging,  unspoiled.  And  we  saw 
the  Academy  pictures  in  New  York,  which  mother  greatly  enjoyed. 

On  Friday  I  give  a  Browning  evening  here  at  the  Institute,  and  the 
last  of  mv  Christian  Evidence  Lectures.  Love  to  the  doctor  and  baby. 

Ned. 

Edward's  mother  reached  Sing  Sing  the  latter  part  of 
April.  Soon  after  came  the  centennial  celebration  of  the 
British  evacuation  of  Xew  York.  Edward  made  arrange- 
ments to  be  there  with  Mr.  Hall,  expressing  much  regret 
that,  owing  to  the  great  crowd  and  the  difficulty  of  securing 
a  good  seat,  it  would  be  an  unwise  risk  to  take  his  mother 
there.  As  he  left  a  day  or  two  in  advance  to  attend  a  wed- 
ding, some  of  the  teachers  requested  him  to  procure  tick- 
ets for  them,  if  possible,  to  seats  on  a  high  stand. 

Xew  York,  44  In-ing  Place.  Tuesday  Morning.  April  30th.  1889. 

Dear  Mother: — 

Came  down  comfortably.  Found  my  place  here 
near  14th  St.  Then  hunted  for  seats.  Prices  all  up  in  the  air.  as 
well  as  the  seats.  Finalh-  took  ten  open-air  seats  in  Union  Square, 
for  which  I  send  tickets.  Jonathan  is  with  me.  up  by  the  Worth 
ilonument.  A  friend  of  mine  will  meet  the  ladies  and  guide  them  to 
the  stand. 

To  the  suggestion  of  some  of  the  teachers  that  I  should 
join  them,  I  readily  acceded,  and  we  all  started  off  early  in 
the  morning.  The  friend.  'Mr.  Bixby,  met  the  little  com- 
pany and  guided  us  to  the  stand,  where  the  teachers,  with 
cushions  they  had  brought,  improvised  a  comfortable  seat 
for  the  mother. 

In  the  afternoon,  before  we  left,  I  wrote  a  note  to  my 

son,  sending  it  by  Mr.  B..  although  he  did  not  meet  him 

till  almost  midnight.    The  next  morning  I  received  from 

him  the  following  card: 

Madison  Square  Seats,  Tuesday.  6.15  P.  M. 
We  have  been  about  ten  hours  in  this  place,  just  opposite  the  re- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  313 

viewing  stand  of  the  President  and  his  party,  with  a  fine  view  of 
every  thing.  Procession  just  closing, — over  five  hours  long.  I 
hope  our  ladies  had  a  good  view  in  Union  Square. 

By  the  next  mail  came  another  postal  card,  dated  Tues- 
day, 1 1. 15  P.  M.,  which  is  given  verbatim  et  literatim. 

II. 15  P.  M.  Tuesday. 
Well!  Weill!  Well!!!  Well!!!!  Well!!!!!!!!!!  But  it  is 
lucky  for  me  I  didn't  know  it  until  it  was  through.  Seeing  the 
crowds,  I  felt  very  anxious  for  our  ladies  on  the  great  stand  with  no 
reserved  seats,  and  feared  that  one  foolish  man  had  made  ten  un- 
happy virgins.  Had  I  known  you  were  among  them —  But  you  are 
always  surprising  us  by  your  capacity.  And  now  we  have  all  proved 
wise  and  all  been  happy.  I  will  bring  the  whole  procession  into 
Prayer  Meeting. 

Ned. 

Among  all  the  ministerial  sons  and  grandsons  of  Leon- 
ard Woods  of  Andover,  who  was  regarded  as  one  of  the 
Congregational  fathers,  Edward  was  the  only  Congrega- 
tional minister.  But  he  worked  easily  in  Presbyterian 
harness,  and  greatly  enjoyed  an  exchange  with  a  Reformed 
Episcopal  clergyman.  Rev.  Mr.  Finley  of  Newburgh.  He 
had  a  warm  friendship  for  his  Episcopal  cousin,  Rev.  Dr. 
George  Baker,  at  the  head  of  St.  Luke's  Hospital,  New 
York,  and  for  his  excellent  wife,  recently  translated.  At 
their  request  he  gave  one  of  his  missionary  talks  in  the 
chapel  of  the  hospital,  and  to  a  most  appreciative  audience. 

Among  the  pleasant  visits  that  we  made  together  was 
one  at  the  Stone  House,  Abington  Avenue,  Newark,  N.  J., 
the  home  of  Dr.  Ward  of  the  Independent,  and  of  his  artistic 
sisters.  Edward  greatly  enjoyed  the  curios  of  all  descrip- 
tions from  Babylonia  and  all  over  the  world,  and  the  whole 
air  of  the  house,  speaking  to  me  of  its  suggestiveness  and 
thoughtfulness.  And  all  sorts  of  subjects — philosophical, 
political  and  religious — were  discussed. 

The  following  passage  is  from  a  letter  by  Dr.  Ward,  after 

he  heard  of  Edward's  departure: — 

In  such  a  crushing  sorrow,  there  is  no  full  comfort,  there  is  only 
alleviation,  patience  and  faith.  Few  sons  were  ever  so  much  loved  by 
a  mother,  or  so  much  deserved  to  be  loved,  and  few  mothers  were 
ever  so  devotedly  loved  by  a  son.    It  is  a  great  deal  to   have  had 


314  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


such  a  son,  and  to  have  suffered  such  a  loss.  She  that  was  most 
blessed  among  women  felt  the  sword  pierce  her  heart,  when  her  son 
died  in  his  young  ministry. 

While  at  Sing  Sing  Edward  took  his  mother  to  New 

York  to  a  meeting  of  the  Presbytery  with  which  the  church 

was  connected.   It  was  a  session  of  unusual  interest,  as  the 

revision  of  the  creed  was  then  broached  and  the  pros  and 

cons  were  skillfully  marshalled.    Of  the  continuance  of  the 

discussion  thus  started,  every  one  knows. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

CORRESPONDENCE   WITH   ARETHUSA  HALL. 

"Before  the  mysteries  of  thy  word  and  will 
Thy  voice  can -gently  bid  my  he^wt  be  still, 
Since  all  that  now  is  hard  to  understand 
Thon  wilt  unravel  in  yon  heavenly  land." 

Edward  always  entered  warmly  into  his  mother's  friend- 
ships. And  he  was  particularly  interested  in  Arethusa  Hall, 
a  near  relative  of  Sylvester  Judd,  whose  Life  she  had  writ- 
ten, and  a  friend  of  his  mother's  for  many  years.  Although 
there  had  been  a  great  change  in  her  religious  views,  and 
she  considered  herself  a  disciple  of  Francis  Abbott,  who 
was  connected  with  the  Free  Religious  Association, 
yet  the  early  friendship  was  never  interrupted.  Their  dif- 
ferences were  seldom  referred  to.  In  reply,  however,  to  a 
letter,  asking  some  questions,  she  writes,  frankly  and  fully. 

On  reading  her  letter  to  Edward,  he  said  he  should  like 
to  answer  it,  which  his  mother  was  glad  to  have  him  do. 
One  or  two  other  letters  followed,  his  last  reaching  North- 
ampton during  his  mother's  visit  there. 

Not  many  months  after.  Miss  Hall  passed  into  the 
unknown  land,  and  Mr.  Abbott,  who  published  a  Memorial 
for  her  friends,  inserted  in  it  the  correspondence  which  is 
here  given. 

Northampton,  May  21st,  1889. 
You  ask  "how  the  other  life  looks  to  me."  I  have  no  idea  of  its 
details.  I  trust ;  I  hope.  I  think  there  is  great  reason  to  believe  in 
its  exibtence,  and  every  reason  to  trust  that  all  is  wisest  and  best; 
that  the  Ruler  of  the  Universe  does  all  things  well.  Upon  the  bosom 
of  this  wonderful  Nature  I  feel  that  I  can  cast  myself  and  die  in 
peace. 

The  religion  of  Nature,  including  man,  of  course,  with  all  that  he 
has  effected,  and  all  that  has  been  effected  in  this  wonderful  universe, 
so  far  as  science  can  penetrate  through  the  aeons  of  the  past, — the 
religion    derived    from    all    this,    is    to    me   soul-satisfying,  and 


3l6  REMINISCE^\'CES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


forms  the  highest,  the  noblest  Ideal  of  the  Infinite  Person,  the  soul 
of  all,  that  I  can  desire.  It  forms  to  me  a  religion  incomparably- 
more  intelligent,  more  reasonable,  more  exalted  and  wisely  devout 
than  the  past  has  entertained.  All  the  historical  religions  of  the 
world,  including  the  Christian,  differ  from  each  other  chiefly  in  de- 
gree in  seeking  in  the  supernatural  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  infinite 
longings  of  the  soul. 

And,  dear  Margaret,  I  know  the  candor  of  your  nature  will  allow 
me  to  say  it  to  you,  since  it  is  true,  and  you  will  feel  kindly  to  me 
still  when  I  say: — It  is  strange  to  me,  how  a  woman  of  your  intellect, 
of  your  natural  independence  of  thought  (and,  in  saying  you,  I 
would  say  also,  a  man  of  your  son's  knowledge,  and  ministers  gener- 
ally of  the  highest  scientific  knowledge),  how  you  ian  believe  the 
Bible  to  be  other  than  a  record  of  the  best  knowledge  and  thought  of 
the  purely  human  mind,  working  in  the  way  natural  to  all  minds,, 
simply  under  the  light  and  knowledge  to  which  they  had  attained, 
and  how  you  can  take  this  record  as  from  the  mouth  of  God.  And 
then  the  God  of  this  whole  mighty  universe,  coming  to  this  speck  of 
earth,  entering  into  the  womb  of  a  virgin,  and,  in  due  time  emerging 
as  a  human  child,  to  be  a  Mediator  and  Saviour  of  a  race  whose  an- 
cestors offended  the  Supreme  Parent,  and  thus  dragged  all  his  pos- 
terity to  perdition !  I  can't  help  it.  Margaret,  but  it  is  to  me  on  a 
par  with  all  the  avators  of  heathenism.  And  the  whole  system  is  to 
me  but  a  more  civilized  form  of  what  we  call  heathenism ! 

You  are  too  wise  to  be  shocked.  You  may  be  pained.  You  may 
pity.  I  should  not  say  it,  but  in  trust  of  j'our  truly  superior 
intellect,  and  your  great  hospitality  for  what  you  may  consider  great 
error.  I  have  failed  to  do  justice  to  my  thought  and  my  position,  but 
I  am  too  tired  to  re-write,  and  thus  give  more  clearness  and  fulness 
to  them.  I  think,  however,  you  will  be  able  to  read  between  the  lines. 

I  should  not  have  attempted  to  define  my  position  thus  far,  had 
you  not  rather  given  me  the  challenge.  I  know  well  all  the  arguments 
you  can  bring  against  me.  have  known  them  from  my  youth  up, 
through  the  "bodies  of  divinity"  I  have  read,  and  all  the  preaching 
I  have  heard.  I  do  believe  I  am  on  a  "Rock"  more  aged  than  yours, 
and  deep  as  the  foundations  of  eternity.  I  am  at  peace,  and  my  re- 
ligion is  to  me  the  soul  of  my  life,  permeated  with  an  enthusiasm 
such  as  I  never  felt  under  the  influence  of  the  faith  into  which  I  was 
born. 

How  beautiful  the  world  is  now  !  What  a  wonderful  resurrection 
to  new  life  !    God,  immortal  in  all ! 

"O  God,  I  can  trust  for  the  human  soul !" 

Faithfully,  your  old  friend  Thusa. 

Sing  Sing,  May  23d,  18S9. 

My  Dear  Miss  Hall  :— 

Your  last  letter  to  my  mother,  in  which  you 
kindly  refer  to  me.  has  so  much  of  interest  in  it  that  I  have  asked 
the  privilege  of  making  some  response.  I  wish  this  especially 
because,  if  I  understand  what  you  say,  your  rock  is  our  rock,  and, 
however  we  may  have  come  to  it,  and  with  whatever  difference  of 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  317 


expression  and  explanation,  not  only  our  Life,  but  our  Faith  rest  in 
the  same  way  upon  Him. 

We  should,  of  course,  at  the  very  start,  grant  the  inadequacy  of 
language  to  express  our  Faith,  and  the  inadequacy  of  our  Faith  to 
compass  the  Truth.  Our  words  miss  the  thought  at  which  they  aim, 
and  the  Truth  evades  our  definition.  Yet,  in  a  partial  an'd  differing 
way,  each  may  apprehend  it,  and  we  may  meet  in  the  same  centre. 

You  "have  no  idea  of  the  details  of  the  other  life,"  but  great  con- 
fidence "in  its  existence."  You  "trust  that  all  is  wisest  and  best — that 
the  Ruler  of  the  Universe  does  all  things  well."  There  we  are  quite 
at  one.  The  only  suggestion  I  find  as  to  details  is  from  the  analogy  of 
spirit  and  character  in  this  beginning  of  life.  I  believe  that  the 
Eternal  Life  begins  in  Time,  and  that  this  beginning  shapes  the  con- 
tinuance and  the  end;  that  death  is  not  revolution,  but  evolution.  So 
from  the  study  of  the  germ  here  I  come  to  anticipate  certain  things 
beyond.  But,  because  of  my  belief  in  him  who  does  all  things  well, 
I  am  most  sure  of  all  that  it  will  be  better  than  my  best  imaginings. 
That,  too,  seems  to  me  the  teaching  of  the  bold  Oriental  imagery  of 
the  Bible.  I  have  little  doubt  that  our  hopes  are  much  alike  in  this 
matter. 

When  you  speak  of  the  "religion  of  Nature"  I  am  not  sure  that  I 
know  just  what  you  mean.  If  you  mean  simply  that  wonder,  awe, 
reverence,  which  in  many  souls  results  from  the  view  and  study  of 
Nature, — in  a  word  the  feeling  which  Nature  inspires  in  us,  without 
reference  to  any  thing  to  which  Nature  points,  I  should  say  that  was 
to  me  an  unusual  sense  of  the  word,  for  which  I  should  be  more  apt 
to  think  of  Nature,  including  Man,  as  an  effect,  not  exclusively,  but 
to  use  the  term  "religiousness."  Religion  seems  to  me  to  imply  the 
relation  between  persons,  and  I  like  best  to  speak  of  it  as  the 
Life  of  God  in  the  Soul  of  Man. .  .The.  religion  of  Nature  would, 
therefore,  mean  to  me  the  religion  to  which  Nature  points ;  the  per- 
sonal relation  which  it  suggests.  But  I  think  this  must  be  your  own 
meaning:  for  you  say  "the  religion  derived  from  all  this  .  .  to  me 
forms  the  highest,  the  noblest  Ideal  of  the  Infinite  Person,  the  soul 
of  all  that  I  can  desire." 

If  Nature,  "including  Man,"  inspires  you  with  faith  in  an  Infinite 
Person,  of  whose  personality  our  own  is  but  a  faint  reflection, — 
then  we  are  alike.  Right  here  it  is  possible  that  our  ways  might 
divide,  yet  your  words  encourage  me  to  hope  not.  I  am  accustomed 
to  think  of  Nature,  including  Man,  as  an  effect,  not  exclusivelv.  but 
mainly  so.  This  effect  suggests — I  should  better  say  reveals —  God; 
and  that  as  something  not  separate  or  removed,  but  at  once  im- 
manent and  distinct.  I  should  not  care  at  all  for  the  geometrical 
manner  of  stating  his  relation  to  Nature,  whether  that  be  called 
transcendent  or  immanent,  whether  he  be  thought  of  as  working 
within  or  without,  above,  beyond,  in  front  or  back  of  all  things. 
Every  such  expression  is  partial.  All  taken  together  can  but  hint  at 
the  truth  that  he  is  All  in  all.  But  I  should  care  very  much  about 
being  able  to  say  God  and  Nature,  rather  than  God  or  Nature,  as  if 
the  two  were  not  simply  interwoven  but  identical.  Some  distinct- 
ness between  the  two  is  certainly  necessary,  in  order  to  have  any  re- 
lation between  the  two.    Grant  sufficient  distinctiveness  for  an  actual 


3l8   REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AXD  WORK 


relationship,  then  I  think  all  various  ways  of  expressing  that  relation- 
ship, in  a  degree,  truthful,  ^^'e  may  tliink  of  it  as  being  that  of  the 
Cause  to  the  Effect,  or  of  the  body  to  the  raiment,  or  of  the  soul  to 
the  body,  or  of  the  life  to  its  manifestation,  or  of  the'_^ Ruler  to  the 
Universe.    Each  expression  is  partial,  each  helpful. 

It  seems  to  me  that  you  indicate  the  acceptance  of  some  such  rela- 
tionship between  God  and  Nature,  implying  their  distinctness.  You 
say  "the  Ruler  of  the  Universe  does  all  things  well;"  you  speak  of 
'"God  immanent  in  all."  and  of  the  "Infinite  Person,  the  soul  of  all." 
We  use  exactly  the  same  language.  Do  we  not  mean  the  same? 
Only  one  phrase  causes  me  to  doubt.  Looking  on  Nature  as  the 
work  and  working  of  God,  I  should  need  to  change  one  word  in  vour 
sentence:  "Upon  the  bosom  of  this  wonderful  Nature  I  feel  that  I 
can  cast  myself  and  die  in  peace."  I  should  put  the  word  God  in- 
stead of  Nature.  Yet  I  could  say  God  in  Nature,  and  be  well  content. 
Of  course  I  am  here  guarding  myself  against  absolute  Pantheism, 
as  I  would  on  the  other  side  against  Deism.  I  am  merely  stating 
the  faith  of  pure  Theism,  though  I  should  claim  the  right  to  term  it 
pure  Christian  Theism. 

But  if  we  have  kept  near  together  up  to  this  point,  you  imply  that 
here  our  paths  diverge.  And  you  wonder  that  intelligent  persons  can 
hold  the  C  ristian  beliefs  which  we  entertain.  I  suppose  the  diffi- 
culty with  those  who  discuss  these  points  often,  is  that  each  side  im- 
agines the  other  to  hold  what  it  does  not,  and  does  not  understand 
the  opinions  the  other  does  hold.  I  should  be  glad  if  I  could  show  at 
least  how  closely  the  Christian  beliefs  we  hold  are  connected  with 
what  you  accept. 

You  say  "the  religion  of  Nature  including  Man,  ...  to  me 
forms  the  highest,  the  noblest  Ideal  of  the  Infinite  Person,  the  soul 
of  all  that  I  can  desire."  I  suppose  you  would  not  object  to  the  ex- 
pression that  the  Universe  or  Nature  is  the  Revelation  of  God.  Now, 
is  it  not  true  that  the  highest  thing  in  the  Universe,  looked  at  as 
such  a  revelation,  is  Man?  Man  is  the  highest  revelation  ot  God. 
But  the  highest  thing  in  Man  is  character.  And  the  highest  charac- 
ter is  righteous,  forgiving,  self-sacrificing  Love.  The  holy  Life  of 
Love  is  the  highest  Revelation  of  God.  Now  the  Christian  claim  is 
simply  this,  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  presents  us  this  holy  Life  of  Love, 
and  that  he  is  therefore  the  Revelation  of  God,  the  Son  of  God,  who 
is  Love.  You  may  question  or  denj'  this  claim  on  historical  or  other 
grounds.  But  I  do  not  see  how  j'ou  can  regard  it  as  either  super- 
stitious, unintelligible,  or  unreasonable.  We  are  convinced  that  in 
his  life  and  workings  Jesus  is  absolutely  imique  among  the  sons  of 
men ;  that  he  was  sinless  and  moralh'  perfect,  the  supreme  example 
of  historj';  that  he  made  imprecedented  claims  as  to  his  authority-, 
kingdom,  and  relations  with  God :  that  he  has,  in  accordance  with 
those  claims,  exerted  an  unparalleled  influence  for  good  upon  the 
world  through  eighteen  centuries.  This  supremacy  of  character  we 
believe  carries  with  it  a  Lordship  over  Man.  and  also  over 
Nature.  Being  Lord  of  Life,  it  is  not  strange  to  us  that  He  should 
be  Lord  over  Death ;  and  the  Resurrection  would  be  no  surprise  to  us, 
even  did  we  not  find  it  supported,  as  we  believe,  by  irrefutable  testi- 
mony.   The  whole  structure  rests  upon   the   original   claim   of  a 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


unique,  a  Divine  character,  the  Revelation  of  God.  As  God  mani- 
fests himself  in  the  Universe,  here  we  find  Him  manifest  in  the  flesh, 
"the  Word  made  flesh."  When  you  protest  against  the  idea  of  "the 
God  of  this  mighty  universe"  entering  into  human  condition,  etc.,  we 
ask  what  else  would  you  have?  All  this  simply  says  that  in  giving 
His  superb  Self-Revelation  in  a  Divine  character,  or  as  I  like  to 
say,  in  a  Divine-human  life,  God  wrought  bv  natural  processes,  and 
put  His  Revelation  into  human  terms.  Why  should  not  the  holy  Life 
of  Love,  that  was  to  reveal  God  to  men,  be  born  as  a  child,  and 
consecrate  human  life  by  passing  through  its  various  conditions?  If 
the  beauty  of  God  is  embodied  in  a  flower,  why  not  His  Love  in  a 
Son  of  Man?  If  God's  Self-Revelation  is  to  be  localised  at  all  why 
not  on  "this  speck  of  earth"  as  well  as  on  any  other  speck?  What 
are  physical  dimensions  to  the  soul?  If  Humanity  is  God's  highest 
work,  why  might  He  not  specially  manifest  himself  to  Humanity  in  a 
human  life? 

I  have  visited  heathen  nations  and  learned  something  of  their  phil- 
osophies and  practices.  And  I  must  say  that  I  cannot  find  their  phil- 
osophies absurd.  They  seem  to  me  often  peoples  dreaming,  who  catch 
fleeting  visions  of  what  others  have  in  waking  reality.  Their  in- 
carnations spring  from  the  natural  and  I  believe  the  prophetic  long- 
ings of  the  heart  to  see  God.  They  hint  of  Christianity  as  the  grotes- 
que shadows  do  of  dawn — only  these  incarnations  are  seldom  either 
holy  or  historic. 

But  the  Bible !  You  wonder  that  we  can  receive  that  as  we  do. 
This  is  somewhat  the  way  in  which  I  receive  it.  I  believe  not  only 
in  Jesus  as  the  historic  man  of  Revelation,  but  in  the  Jews  as  the 
historic  people  of  Revelation.  Not  as  a  good  people,  on  the  con- 
trary, as  stupid,  perverse,  wilful ;  but  as  displaying  in  their  history 
the  working  of  God's  rule  of  righteousness  in  a  way  as  unique  at 
least  among  all  people,  as  God's  working  of  art  and  thought  are 
among  the  Greeks.  Now  the  Bible  is  precious  to  me  as  containing 
the  records  of  this  Self-Revelation  of  God  in  History.  I  cannot  help 
believing  that  its  historians,  psalmists,  prophets,  apostles,  evangelists 
produced  here  a  sacred  library  that  is  of  monumental  and  perpetual 
importance  in  the  matters  of  religion.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  the 
chief  inspiration  of  the  religious  life  of  Christendom  to-day,  and  has 
been  for  centuries.  And  to  me  the  co-ordination  of  its  parts  indi- 
cates a  special  design  as  much  as  the  harmony  in  the  Cathedral  of 
Cologne.  But  the  great  thing  is  the  Divine  Life  which  is  at  the  heart 
of  the  Book,  as  it  is  at  the  heart  of  Christendom. 

What  I  have  written  seems  to  me  the  essence  of  the  Christian 
Faith.  It  is,  doubtless,  overlaid  by  many  errors  and  superstitions, 
but  this  is  the  saving  substance.  And  for  this  substance  I  do  claim 
two  things.  First,  it  is  not  unreasonable.  Let  it  be  true  or  false,  yet 
it  is  a  plain,  definite  system  of  thought  and  faith  based  on  alleged 
historic  events.  It  is  nothing  that  is  not  consistent  with  the  highest 
intelligence  and  the  purest  practices.  Second,  the  character  of 
Christ,  who  is  Christianity,  is  so  pure  and  commanding,  the  occur- 
rences connected  with  his  life  are  so  extraordinary,  the  impression 
he  has  made  upon  mankind  is  so  deep  and  widespread,  that  he  justly 
claims  as  he  more  and  more  receives  the  reverence,  the  imitation,  the 


320   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


patient  study  of  the  wisest  and  the  best,  as  well  as  of  the  worst  and 
lowest.  Interpret  him  as  we  may,  he  is  in  the  world  as  one  of  its 
moving  powers  and  ruling  principles.  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  have 
learned  to  know  God  through  him.  He  has  shown  me  and  mine 
God's  Fatherhood,  Forgiveness  and  Immanence.  He  has  formed, 
for  me,  the  Brotherhood  of  Man.  He  is  my  Life.  I  cannot  define 
him;  but  he  has  shown  God  to  me.  And  what  is  best  in  those  I 
know  usually  flows  from  him,  always  conforms  to  him,  so  that  they 
too  become  to  me  in  character,  revelations  of  God. 

I  am  keenly  alive  to  the  movements  of  science  and  criticism. 
They  have  changed  many  definitions,  and  undermined  many  philoso- 
phies and  theologies,  but  I  do  not  see  that  they  have  changed  one 
fact  in  the  Christian  Faith.  They  have  only  swept  away  theories  to 
bring  us  in  closer  contact  with  eternal  realities. 

And  when  I  or  mine  go  out  from  this  life,  into  the  great  Beyond, 
I  think  we  have  something  even  surer  and  vastly  more  loving  to 
which  to  entrust  ourselves  than  the  bosom  of  Nature.  I  want  no 
•dearer,  grander  example,  no  closer  companionship  with  which  to  go 
forth  than  that  of  Christ.  I  commit  myself  to  his  guidance,  sure 
that  he  "came  from  the  Father,"  sure  that  he  will  bring  me  to  the 
Father.  And,  as  T  believe  that  he  leads  many  whose  eyes  are  held 
from  seeing  him,  so  my  own  confidence  is  that  you  and  some  like 
you,  who  seek  God,  are  being  led  by  him  and  are  to  be  more  and  more 
his  disciples. 

I  have  written  much  at  length,  but  it  has  been  with  loving 
thoughts  of  my  mother's  dear  friend,  whose  name  is  one  of  our 
householdy  words.  You  may  be  sure  that  no  words  of  "yours  can 
shock  us.  It  is  only  irreverence  that  should  shock,  and  truth-seek- 
ers must  speak  freely  together.  Some  day  we  shall  surely  "know  as 
we  are  known." 

With  respectful  and  affectionate  regards,  I  am_ 

Yours  sincerely, 

Edward  A.  Lawrence. 

P.  S.  Browning's  Poem,  Saul,  expresses  at  its  close  what  I  take  to 
be  the  Christian  Philosophy  of  the  Incarnation.  Are  you  familiar 
with  it?    It  is  a  great  poem. 

Northampton,  May  29,  1889. 

My  Dear  Mr.  Lawrence : — 

Your  letter  of  the  23rd  instant  impressed  me  so 
deeply  with  its  kindness,  its  candor,  its  broad,  catholic  spirit,  that  I 
could  hardly  refrain  from  taking  my  pen  at  once  in  reply. 

Yes,  I  feel  that  we  are  substantially  upon  the  same  "Rock" — that 
Rock  which  is  at  the  foundation  of  all  religions,  and  which  forms 
the  basis  of  that  sympathy  of  religions  which  should  exist.  The 
human  soul,  from  its  very  nature,  seeks  after  God,  and  is  not  satis- 
fied till  it  finds  something  to  rest  upon.  But  this  something  varies  ac- 
cording to  the  conditions  of  inheritance.education,  and  the  light  of 
science.  If  each,  with  earnest  seeking,  does  his  best,  I  don't  see 
what  more  can  be  required. 

Now  as  to  the  "Religion  of  Nature."  My  terms  of  expression 
were  not  explicit,  yet  you  very  well  guessed  my  meaning.  Yet  I 
think  we  differ  in  regard  to  the  "relationship"  between  God  and  what 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  32 1 


is  called  Nature.  And  first,  let  me  say,  this  earth,  in  my  highest 
thought,  holds  but  a  very  limited  place  in  what  I  take  in  as  Nature. 
And  here  let  me  give  you,  as  what  I  am  ready  to  accept,  Mr.  F.  E. 
Abbott's  statement  at  the  commencement  of  a  series  of  articles  in 
The  New  Ideal,  upon  "The  Philosophy  of  Free  Religion."  "The 
universe  is  known  to  us  as  at  once  infinite  machine,  infinite  organism, 
and  infinite  person—as  mechanical  in  its  apparent  form  and  action,  or- 
ganic in  its  essential  constitution,  and  personal  in  its  innermost  be- 
ing ;  it  is  the  eternally  self-evolving  and  self-involving  unity  of  the  Ab- 
solute Real  and  the  Absolute  Ideal  in  God.  .  .  and  is  the  Ethical 
Realization  of  the  Infinite  Divine  Ideal,  which  reflects  itself  in  the 
Finite  Human  Ideal,  as  the  sun  reflects  itself  in  the  dew-drop." 

Now  this  view  does  not  make  God  so  "distinct"  from  Nature  as 
your  thought  seems  to  be,  but  as  entirely  within  Nature,  and  in  no 
sense  outside  of  it,  as  the  cause  of  an  effect.  So  you  see  the  fulness 
of  my  meaning  when  I  said  the  "bosom  of  Nature."  I  might  say, 
the  bosom  of  God,  and  express  my  own  thought,  but  the  expression 
carries  generally  a  very  different  sense.  My  aim,  these  late  years, 
has  been  to  find  God,  as  revealed  in  Nature,  including  its  largest 
sense,  and  to  square  my  life,  both  physically  and  morally,  by  the  laws 
inherent  in  the  Universe.  And,  with  this  comes,  in  my  spirit,  the 
feeling,  the  emotion  of  religion  in  its  deepest,  most  reverential  sense, 
a  sense  too  deep  for  words,  but  one  of  yearning  for  union  with  the  In- 
finite Ideal,  and  for  the  utmost  possible  attainment  of  the  Infinite 
Perfection. 

As  you  say,  "our  paths  diverge"  when  we  come  to  this  founda- 
tion of  our  beliefs.  It  all  turns  upon  this, — whether  we  do  or  do 
not  believe  in  the  Bible  as  a  special  Revelation  from  God.  I  must 
say,  frankly,  that  I  do  not  consider  it  a  Revelation  from  him,  in 
any  sense  differening  in  kind  from  the  revelations  of  Nature  in  a 
broad  sense ;  and  especially  as  given  by  other  highest  souls  that  have 
lived,  and  who,  as  well  as  the  writers  of  the  Bible,  have  given  us 
their  best  thoughts.  Of  these  latter  there  have  been  many,  scat- 
tered through  the  ages  and  nations ;  and,  at  the  present  day,  it  seems 
to  me  that  the  truth-loving  and  truth-seeking  souls,  with  the  aid 
which  advanced  science  gives,  are  more  likely  to  arrive  at  divine 
knowledge  than  any  writer  of  the  Bible.  I  appreciate  all  the 
grandeur  and  excellence  of  religious  thought  and  emotion  contained 
in  the  Bible,  but  consider  it  purely  a  human  production.  As  to  its 
theology  or  system  of  doctrines,  I  cannot  consider  it  as  any  author- 
ity- 

With  the  view  of  the  Bible,  the  position  of  Jesus,  as  an  authority, 
of  course  stands  or  falls.  Thus,  to  me,  he  was  not  exceptional  in 
kind  from  other  men.  In  character  he  may  well  be  placed  among 
the  highest  sons  of  God  that  have  been  produced  in  the  human.  I 
cannot  say  that  I  see  him  to  have  been  entirely  free  from  the  imper- 
fections of  the  finite.  For  myself,  I  do  not  feel  the  need  of  any  one 
to  come  between  me  and  God,  any  farther  than  as  helps,  such  as  you 
and  other  spirits  imbued  with  the  divine  may  be  to  me.  I  find  God 
in  vegetable  and  in  animal  nature,  and  especially  in  the  human.  I 
know  one  who  says  he  knows  most  of  God  through  his  mother ;  an- 
other, who  said  he  knew  most  of  God  through  what  he  considered 
the  exalted  character  of  the  lady  whom  he  loved. 


322    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


I  know  I  touch  upon  a  most  tender  point  with  you,  when  I  venture 
to  put  Jesiis  in  the  same  category  with  purely  unexceptional  human 
bemgs.  But  I  feel  you  will  see  that  it  is  a  reverence  for  what  to 
me  is  truth,  and  that  you  have  too  much  religious  philosophy  to 
be  disturbed  or  offended  by  it. 

You  are  true  and  consistent  with  your  own  thoughts,  and  I  respect 
your  fidelity.  You  can  do  no  otherwise,  neither  can  I  than  I  do. 
And  your  rare  liberality  and  ingenuousness  towards  what  to  you  are 
my  errors,  is  to  me  very  gratifying. 

Since  commencing  this  writing  I  have  received  a  postal  from  your 
mother,  saying  she  will  make  me  a  visit.  This  is  surely  a  pleasant 
prospect.  Our  friendship,  of  more  than  half  a  century  I  think,  has 
been  unbroken.  I  have  always  found  her  the  same  true,  noble- 
minded,  faithful  friend.  I  have  kept  along  with  the  history  of  her 
family,  and  have  felt  an  identity  almost  as  though  they  were  of  kin. 
I  know  the  close  alliance,  almost  more  than  that  of  blood,  between 
you  and  her,  and  am  glad  you  have  the  joy  it  brings. 

With  the  kindest  regard, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

Arethusa  Hall. 

Sing  Sing,  May  30th,  1889. 

My  Dear  Miss  Hall  :— 

As  I  supposed,  our  conceptions  of  the  central 
mystery  of  Life  are  certainly  allied,  our  trust  is  the  same.  I  was 
glad  to  get  the  clear  statement  you  quote  from  Mr.  Abbott.  It  cer- 
tainly offers  an  inspiring  faith.  If  in  this  eternal  process  of  the  uni- 
verse it  differentiates  itself  into  subject  and  object,  the  way  is  there- 
by opened  for  the  distinctness  of  which  I  spoke,  and  for  the  thought 
of  God  and  Nature.  The  whole  conception  I  could  accept  as  one  of 
the  alternative  yet  complementary  statements  of  which  every  one  is 
greatly  suggestive,  no  one  nor  all  combined  exhaustive.  And  I 
should  like  to  know  more  of  Mr.  Abbott's  writings. 

I  am  more  concerned  to  write  of  the  point  at  which  our  views  take 
a  wider  divergence.  I  see  that  you  understand  my  aim,  which  is 
not  at  all  controversial  or  proselyting,  but  solely  in  the  interest  of 
mutual  understanding.  It  is  not  my  care  to  represent  "our  view"  as 
the  true  one,  or  the  only  one.  But  I  was  impressed  by  your  wonder 
that  intelligent,  candid  people  could  hold  to  that  which  to  you  seems 
so  deeply  tinged  with  superstition,  and  so  unreasonable.  And  I  am 
deeply  concerned  to  speak  of  the  Christian  Faith  as  that  which  is  al- 
together reasonable,  and  the  foe  of  superstition,  consistent  not  only 
with  the  purest  character  but  with  the  keenest  intelligence. 

It  is  in  regard  to  the  Bible,  I  judge,  that  you  wonder  most  at  the 
Christian  views.  But  just  here  I  suspect  that  you  attribute,  quite 
innocently,  and  not  without  some  reason,  views  which  can  in  no 
sense  be  called  a  part  of  the  Christian  Faith. 

The  Bible  is  to  me,  indeed,  the  Book  of  Books.  I  believe  that  the 
Hebrews  had,  under  divine  appointment  for  their  work  of  righteous- 
ness, as  marked  a  genius  or  inspiration,  as  you  may  choose  to  call  it, 
for  religious  insight  and  expression,  as  the  Greeks  had  for  the  insight 
and  expression  of  art  and  philosophy.  The  results  of  one  seem  to 
;Tie  as  absolutely  unique  as  those  of  the  other.    I  no  more  expect  to 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


323 


see  the  Psalms,  Job,  Isaiah,  John,  Paul,  equalled  in  their  line  than 
Homer,  Phidias,  Plato  in  theirs.  I  find  much  that  is  sublime  and 
religious  in  other  ancient,  sacred  books,  but  nothing,  as  a  whole, 
equal  to  these  books.  The  Hebrews  combine,  in  the  most  surprising 
way,  sobriety  and  sublimity,  the  historic  and  the  imaginative  sense. 
They  even  present  the  genius  of  universal  history.  And  this  historic 
sense,  which  makes  Christianity  a  historic  religion,  is  amazingly  lack- 
ing in  all  the  great  religious  books  of  which  I  know. 

I  do  not  believe  the  Bible  to  be  a  book  of  Science,  either  natural  or 
religious.  I  am  not  concerned  to  defend  or  assert  its  infallibility. 
And  I  do  not  see  how  any  advance  of  Science  is  to  displace  or  over- 
top the  Bible  any  more  than — Phidias.  Science  has  its  own  glori- 
ous work  to  do  for  us ;  yet  more  in  us  dispelling  our  errors.  I  do  not 
see  how  it  should  produce  aught  to  take  the  place  of  the  23d  Psalm, 
or  the  139th,  or  of  the  Gospel  of  John.  All  I  can  say  is  that  when 
as  a  book,  not  of  philosophy,  but  of  religion,  anything  more  inspiring, 
humbling,  comforting,  transforming  than  the  Bible  appears,  I  want  to 
know  it  and  use  it,  and  thank  God  for  a  yet  grander  gift  to  man. 

Yet  with  all  this  I  would  not,  in  any  strict  sense,  say  that  I  hold  the 
Bible  as  a  Revelation  of  God,  either  general  or  special,  I  do  not 
think  "all  turns  on  this."  The  Christian  Faith  grasps  the  revealed 
character  of  God.  Character  reveals  itself  in  life  rather  than  in  doc- 
uments. Here  primarily  in  a  people,  centrally  and  supremely  in  a 
person.  Christ  is  to  me  the  Revelation  of  God,  the  end  in  a  long  self- 
revealing,  historic  process.  The  Bible  records  that  Revelation.  I 
accept  it  as  a  faithful  record,  and  would  be  satisfied  to  claim  for  it 
the  same  degree  of  credit  that  is  accorded  to  trustworthy  historians. 
I  do  not  turn  aside  to  consider  the  mooted  questions  of  Higher  Criti- 
cism. All  I  would  now  insist  on  is  that  the  unhistoric  character  of 
the  Bible,  as  a  whole,  has  not  been  shown  in  any  such  way  as  to  im- 
peach the  intelligence  of  those  who  hold  to  its  substantial  fidelity, 
or  render  them  liable  to  the  charge  of  superstition. 

But  you  may  say,  "these  are  your  individual  views.  The  great 
mass  of  Christians  think  quite  dif?erently."  Is  it  too  much  to  ask 
that  the  Christian  Faith  be  judged  not  by  any  individual  opinions  or 
sectarian  views,  but  by  the  great  Catholic  creeds  of  the  Church?  The 
briefest,  most  common  statement  is  the  Apostles'  Creed.  It  contains 
not  one  syllable  or  suggestion  about  the  Bible.  Nor  does  the  Nicene 
Creed.  Nor  any  of  the  Catholic  Creeds,  if  I  remember  rightly.  But 
they  contain  the  Christian  Faith  for  which  we  stand.  The  exi- 
gencies of  the  Protestant  Reformation  caused  the  later  reformers  to 
press  forward  the  Book  into  a  somewhat  abnormal  position,  to  offset 
the  claims  of  the  Pope.  But  that  does  not  affect  the  substance  of 
the  Christian  Faith,  which  lays  hold  of  a  Person. 

I  do  not  quite  understand  what  you  mean  in  saying  that  you  con- 
sider the  Bible  purely  a  human  production.  I  should  suppose  that 
we  would  both  say  that  nothing  good  is  purely  a  human  production. 
The  human  and  divine  so  intermingle  that  I  cannot  separate  them, 
least  of  all  in  religious  art  and  utterance.  I  do  not  regard  the  Bible 
as  presenting  a  theology  or  a  system  of  doctrine  any  more  than  the 
earth  presents  a  system  of  geology,  or  Phidias  a  system  of  art.  It 
presents  a  vast  number  of  historic  and  spiritual  facts  and  emotions. 


324   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


a  few  fragmentary  conclusions  or  doctrines,  as  in  Paul's  writing. 
Mainly  it  presents  a  Life. 

And  so  far  from  believing  that  "with  the  view  of  the  Bible  the 
position  of  Jesus  as  an  authority  stands  or  falls,"  I  hold  just  the  re- 
verse. The  authority  of  Jesus,  for  me,  determines  my  views  of  the 
Bible.  Simply  granting  a  faithful  historic  character,  it  presents  to 
me  Jesus.  Then  I  judge  of  the  Bible  by  him,  his  words,  deeds, 
spirit.  It  is  little  to  me  apart  from  Christ,  or  except  as  viewed 
through  Christ.  I  can  only  say  with  the  view  of  Christ,  the  Christian 
Faith  and  all  Christian  theology  and  views  stand  or  fall.  And  his 
authority  springs  for  me,  not  so  much  out  of  his  relations,  as  from 
the  character,  the  Person. 

Of  him  I  will  not  say  more.  The  real  difference  would  lie  in  the 
interpretation  of  Jesus.  Only  I  should  say  that  no  honest,  rever- 
ent expression  of  doubt  concerning  him,  should  be  offensive  to  a 
follower  of  his.  It  can  only  cause  the  longing  that  the  doubting 
Thomas  may  see  his  Lord  in  all  his  glory. 

Only  as  to  one  remaining  point  would  I  speak.  You  do,  appar- 
ently, recognize  the  need  men  have  of  "helps"  to  come  between  them 
and  God,  and  refer  to  those  who  have  known  most  of  God  through  a 
mother,  or  a  lady  love. 

I  presume  you  would  not  object  to  the  statements  that  we  know 
God  at  all  only  through  his  Revelation  of  himself,  and  that  the 
whole  universe  is  a  Revelation  of  Him.  But  that  which  is  highest  in 
the  universe  must  most  clearly  and  fully  reveal  Him.  Surely  the 
highest  in  the  universe  is  Man,  and  the  highest  in  Man  is  Character, 
the  highest  in  Character  Love.  Just  in  so  far  then  as  Christ  seemed 
to  me  to  present  or  approach  the  perfection  of  divine  character,  of 
self-sacrificing  love,  at  once  universal  and  particular,  would  you  not 
say  that  to  such  a  one  Christ  presented  the  supreme  Revelation  of 
God,  that  through  Christ,  par  excellence,  such  a  one  knew  God?  But 
all  Christians  do  hold  it  as  of  the  innermost  essence  of  their  faith 
that  Christ  does  embody  Divine  Character  in  perfect  Love.  To  them, 
therefore,  there  would  be  an  absolute  need  of  Christ  between  them 
and  God,  as  The  Way,  the  medium  of  revelation,  knowledge,  com- 
munion.   As  he  said,  "He  that  hath  seen  vie,  hath  seen  the  Father." 

May  I  say,  in  closing  this  long  letter,  that  I  have  several  times  had 
this  experience.  I  have  met  those  who  in  the  course  of  life  have 
undergone  a  reaction  from  their  early  views,  and  have  sought  rest 
elsewhere,  findin"  it  or  not  as  the  case  may  be.  Those  early  views 
were  the  mechanical,  exaggerated  views  of  some  sect  or  set  of  people 
from  whom  they  had  been  imbibed,  rather  than  the  natural  out- 
come of  the  Bible  or  the  great  creeds.  Especially  have  they  been 
mechanical  views  of  the  Bible.  And  ever  afterwards  they  conceive 
of  Christianity,  most  naturally,  but  mistakenly,  under  the  guise  in 
which  they  have  rejected  it.  Yet  first  and  last  it  is  something  quite 
different  from  what  they  take  it  to  be.  Local  opinions,  temporary 
teachings  have  hidden  the  Faith  of  Christ  from  their  sight,  and  they 
perhaps  never  see  its  essence  as  the  simple,  humble  believing  heart 
accepts  it. 

It  has  seemed  to  me  that  this  may,  in  some  sense,  have  been  your 
case.    Certainly  you  appear  to  be  meeting  views  of  the  Bible  which 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  325 


do  not  seem  to  me  a  part  of  the  Christian  Faith,  which  are  not  my 
views  and  are  in  no  CathoHc  Creed. 

I  have  written  at  length  because  I  have  written  in  haste.  It  is 
now  one  A.  M.  and  I  seldom  sin  in  this  way.  But  your  letter  was 
kind  and  good,  and  you  will  understand  my  reply.  I  go  to  my  new 
work  in  Baltimore  in  a  week  and  do  not  know  when  I  could  write 
after  to-night.  But  I  sincerely  hope  that  I  may  hear  again  from  you 
with  more  questions  or  explanations.  My  address  after  leaving  here 
will  be  "The  Altamont,"  Baltimore,  Md. 

I  know  the  pleasure  that  is  in  store  for  my  mother  during  her  visit 
with  you,  and  wish  I  could  share  it. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Edward  A.  Lawrence. 

Northampton,  June  15th,  1889. 

Dear  Mr.  Lawrence : — 

Your  letter,  with  its  clear  statement  of  views  and 
its  kindly  spirit,  was  received  on  the  morning  of  the  day  on  which 
your  mother  came  to  me.  You  can  understand  how  fully  that  week 
was  occupied.  I  think  I  understand  fully  your  principles  of  faith. 
They  are  such  as  have  been  familiar  to  me  from  my  early  years.  My 
stand-points  are  different  now,  but,  by  different  paths,  I  think  we  lead 
up  to  the  same  spiritual  results.  I  think  we  must,  each  and  all,  be 
faithful  to  our  convictions  of  truth,  after  first  seeking,  with  our  best 
powers,  to  know  what  is  truth.  My  views  in  regard  to  Jesus 
differ  from  yours.  I  do  regard  him  as  a  "revelation  of  God,"  but  in 
no  exceptional  sense,  as  differing  from  other  great  souls  that  have 
appeared  upon  earth,  and,  of  course,  as  giving  him  no  authority  dif- 
fering in  kind  from  that  of  others.  And  so  I  regard  Christianity  as 
only  another  form  which  the  religious  sentiment  in  man  has  taken 
— higher  and  purer,  certainly,  than  any  other,  but  not  the  ideally  per- 
fect which  the  world  may  be  yet  destined  to  see.  It  has  had  the  ad- 
vantages of  connection  with  a  higher  civilization.  But,  as  science 
reveals  more  and  more  of  God,  with  the  eternal  laws  of  the  universe, 
both  moral  and  spiritual,  as  well  as  physical,  religious  views,  it 
seems  to  me,  must  be  greatly  enlarged  and  generalized,  and  freed 
from  the  limitations  of  one  globe,  or  one  man  upon  that  globe. 

Mr.  Abbott  has  a  printed  discourse,  entitled  Tlie  God  of  Science. 
He  has  also  a  volume,  Scientific  Theism.  Both  are  mere  frag- 
ments of  a  work  on  which  he  is  laboring,  a  comprehensive  Scientific 
Philosophy,  which  leads  up  to  the  most  high  and  adoring  conception 
of  God  as  the  all-pervading,  immanent  Life,  Spirit,  Intelligent  Prin- 
cipal and  Person  of  the  whole  Universe. 

With  appreciation  of  your  truly  catholic  spirit, 

Yours  sincerely, 

Arethusa  Hall. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


THE  NEW  FIELD  OF  WORK  IN  BALTIMORE. 

"He  most  lives  who  thinks  most,  feels  noblest,  acts  best." 

Edward  had  been  urged  to  supply  for  a  Sunday  the  First 
Congregational  church  in  Baltimore,  but  under  the  cir- 
cumstances had  declined  to  do  so.  Then  a  delegation 
came  up  to  hear  him,  and  as  the  result  of  their  report,  he 
received  the  following  letter  from  one  of  the  Committee: — 

"Baltimore,  Wednesday  Eve,  lo  P.  M. 
Dear  Mr.  Lawrence. 

Our  meeting  just  adjourned.  Call  unanimous.  Not  a 
vote  against  you.  Closed  meeting  with  doxology,  "Praise 
God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow." 

Edward  decided  to  spend  a  few  weeks  there,  and  then,  if 
everything  proved  satisfactory  on  both  sides,  to  accept  the 
call. 

The  following  letter  is  from  one  of  the  delegates  to  Sing 
Sing, — Mr.  D.  M.  Henderson,  a  deacon  in  the  Congrega- 
tional church: — 

My  Dear  Mrs.  Lawrence : — 

In  what  I  may  say  about  your  son  you  will 
allow  me  to  dispense  with  his  title.  I  knew  him  best  as  "Mr."  Law- 
rence, and  in  his  modesty  I  think  he  preferred  that  style  of  address. 

I  first  heard  of  Mr.  Lawrence  just  after  the  close  of  Mr.  Slo- 
cum's  pastorate  here.  Some  friends  of  his  mentioned  his  name  to 
our  Committee  of  Supply,  but,  learning  that  he  would  not  come  to 
preach  as  a  candidate,  as  we  then  thought  the  proper  thing  to  do  was 
to  hear  everybody  who  wanted  to  preach  and  then  make  a  selection, 
we  dismissed  him  from  our  thoughts.  But  our  experience  of  can- 
didating  was  a  sad  one,  and  we  learned  that  to  investigate  first  and 
hear  afterwards  was  the  better  method.  In  this  sober  second  thought 
we  remembered  the  man  who  would  not  be  a  candidate.  Mr.  Law- 
rence was  then  preaching  at  Sing  Sing.  The  committee  asked  me  to 
go  up  and  investigate.  I  went  and  heard  Mr.  Lawrence  preach 
twice,  and  noted  the  kind  and  amount  of  work  he  was  doing.    I  liked 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  3^7 


his  appearance  and  manner.  He  struck  me  as  being  self-possessed, 
but  not  self-conscious,  not  too  careful  to  appear  clerical,  and  careful 
not  to  appear  too  unclerical.  His  unconventional  style  of  prayer, 
with  its  entire  absence  of  the  rhetorical  element  so  noticeable  in  most 
public  prayers,  could  not  fail  to  strike  any  one.  His  morning  sermon 
seemed  meant  to  baffle  the  "trial  sermon"  hearer,  as  it  was  wholly 
an  Easter  Allegory,  and  of  course,  could  give  no  idea  of  his  usual  pul- 
pit ministrations.  One  could  gather  from  it,  however,  impressions 
of  a  good  literary  style,  fine  imaginative  powers,  and  a  still  finer 
spiritual  insight.  The  evening  discourse  on  the  "Golden  Rule" 
showed  that  power  of  lucid  presentation  and  illustration,  and  the  gift 
of  practical  application,  which  after  years  proved  to  be  strong  points 
in  his  character.  I  made  such  inquiries  as  I  could  without  making 
known  the  object  of  my  visit,  and  received  uniformly  favorable  re- 
sponses. I  was  particularly  struck  with  the  remark  of  an  Irishman, 
not  officially  connected  with  the  church,  "Mr.  Lawrence  beats  any 
man  I  ever  saw  for  making  himself  at  home  with  everybody — the 
rich  and  the  poor,  the  dirty  and  the  clean."  With  what  I  had  already 
seen  and  heard,  this  was  the  one  word  needed  to  decide  me  to  re- 
port favorably.  A  second  delegate  from  the  Baltimore  church 
visited  Sing  Sing,  and  his  report  agreeing  with  mine,  Mr.  Lawrence 
was  called  to  the  First  Congregational  Church  in  this  city.  Before 
accepting,  he  visited  Baltimore,  preaching  on  Sunday  and  conducting 
the  mid-week  services.  His  investigation  was  most  thorough,  in- 
cluding everything  about  the  church  building,  from  the  basement  to 
the  roof.  He  questioned  the  church  officers  about  their  ideal  of  a 
church  and  its  work :  as  to  what  reason,  if  any,  the  First  Congrega- 
tional Church  in  Baltimore  had  for  existing,  and  what  work  it  was 
doing,  or  was  fitted  to  do,  which  could  not  be  equally  well  done  by 
the  other  churches  in  the  neighborhood.  Having,  by  observance  and 
study  of  the  field  for  several  weeks,  satisfied  himself  tjiat  there  was 
work  to  be  done,  he  consented  to  become  pastor. 

Immediately  his  genius  for  organization  began  to  make  itself  felt. 
There  was  a  general  stock-taking  of  the  material  and  spiritual  assets 
of  the  church.  The  roll  of  membership  was  carefully  revised,  com- 
mittees, which  had  existed  but  in  name,  were  quickened  by  having 
definite  work  appointed  for  them  and  regular  reports  called  for.  The 
young  people  found  that  there  was  work  for  them  to  do ;  the  lately- 
formed  and  not  fully  pledged  Y.  P.  C.  E.  took  a  vigorous  start  for- 
ward, and  the  children  of  the  church  were  gathered  together  as  a 
band  of  Little  Pilgrims,  the  nucleus  of  the  first  Junior  Endeavor 
Society  in  the  state. 

He  had  rare  talent  for  using  unpromising  material.  Persons, 
whom  no  one  else  had  ever  thought  of  looking  to  for  help  in  any  de- 
partment of  church  activity,  were  asked  to  undertake  certain  things, 
and,  doubtless  to  their  own  surprise,  as  well  as  that  of  other  people, 
they  did  it  well,  and.  from  having  a  place  to  fill,  came  to  have  a  new 
interest  in  the  church  and  its  work. 

The  pulpit  ministrations  of  Mr.  Lawrence  proved  very  acceptable. 
The  most  remarkable  thing  about  him  as  a  preacher  was  his  versatil- 
ity. When  you  had  heard  him  twenty  times  you  could  not  guess 
what  kind  of  sermon  he  was  going  to  give  you  next.    His  exegeti- 


328    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


cal  discourses  showed  him  the  thorough,  open-minded  Bible  student, 
his  sermons  on  questions  of  Christian  sociology  showed  at  once  a 
wide  reading  and  a  personal  knowledge  of  the  subjects  considered; 
his  treatment  of  questions  of  the  hour  was  always  vigorous,  without 
sensationalism,  and  passed  unerringly  from  the  apparent  effects  to 
the  hidden  causes.  In  the  pulpit  and  the  prayer-meeting  he  had  a 
genius  for  making  things  clear.  Here,  as  in  his  daily  conversation, 
his  nearness  to  and  childlike  reliance  on  his  heavenly  Father  were 
apparent. 

I  need  not  write  of  the  work  he  did  for  the  city.  Wherever  char- 
itable and  philanthropic  work  is  done,  his  name  is  known  and  his 
memory  loved  and  honored.  His  work  in  the  tenements  was  under- 
taken from  a  clear  conviction  that  the  salvation  of  a  city  could  only 
come  through  such  personal  contact  with  the  needy.  This  that  he 
hath  done  shall  be  told  as  a  memorial  of  him. 

It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  everything  which  such  a  man  should 
undertake  would  meet  with  universal  approval.  There  were  those 
who  differed  from  him,  and  in  the  latter  days  some  things  were  said 
that  may  as  well  be  forgotten.  I  only  recall  the  fact  because  my  ad- 
miration for  Mr.  Lawrence  was  greatly  increased  as  I  marked  the 
way  in  which  he  bore  himself  in  very  trying  circumstances.  I 
found  that  he  could  meet  on  equal  footing  not  only  "the  rich  and 
poor,  the  dirty  and  the  clean,"  but  also  the  friendly  and  the  unfriend- 
ly. Forbearing,  charitable,  yet  manly  and  uncompromising  where 
duty  called,  such  a  mingling  of  sweetness  and  strength  in  one  man 
was  something  I  found  myself  envying.  As  he  honored  me  with 
his  confidence  at  the  first,  I  count  it  a  privilege  that  I  had  still  more 
of  it  in  those  last  days. 

Baltimore,  The  Altamont,  June,  i88g. 
I  have  been  through  the  leave  taking  of  Ossinning  Institute  on  the 
beautiful  hill  and  of  the  dear  ladies  in  it.  I  said  good-bye  to  the 
girls  in  the  hall  right  after  breakfast,  then  in  the  library  to  the  fam- 
ily and  the  teachers,  going  through  it  quickly  that  it  might  not  pull 
too  much  on  my  heart-strings.  Then  I  went  up  stairs  for  my  satchel. 
As  I  passed  out  I  found  the  household  gathered  on  the  porch  wav- 
ing good-byes.  When  I  stepped  down,  the  flowers  began  to  fly,  of 
which  I  gathered  what  I  could  and  ran  off,  waving  hat  and  handker- 
chief. I  brought  with  me  memories  which  I  shall  always  cherish,  of 
the  teachers,  the  beautiful  view  from  my  window,  my  friends  in  the 
church,  the  Society  of  Christian  Service,  and  the  large,  stimulating 
congregations. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  session,  a  minute  was  adopted  in 
reference  to  Edward's  removal  to  Baltimore,  from  which 
a  few  sentences  are  taken: — "Mr.  Lawrence  came  to  us 
under  peculiar  circumstances,  to  supply  what  was  regarded 
as  the  temporary  absence  of  our  pastor.  He  took  up  the 
lines  as  they  fell  from  Mr.  Dwight's  enfeebled  hands.  He 
has  proclaimed  the  Gospel  from  the  pulpit  with  decided 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  32Q 


ability  and  spiritual  earnestness;  he  has  organized  the 
young  people  intO'  systematic  efifort  for  Christian  service, 
and  has  commended  himself  to  all  classes  of  the  church  as 
a  Christian  workman  that  needeth  not  to  be  ashamed." 

The  writer  adds, — "The  above  would  have  been  made 
more  full,  but  that  we  did  not  want  to  seem  fulsome  in  our 
praise.'' 

A  few  extracts  follow  from  two  or  three  letters  by 
friends  in  Sing  Sing.  The  first  is  from  Miss  Fuller,  the  pres- 
ent principal  of  Ossinning  School. 

Mr.  Lawrence  seemed  a  very  part  of  Ossinning.  He  struck  the 
key-notes  of  all  our  life.  No  one  who  was  favored  by  being  here 
during  his  year's  stay  will  ever  lose  the  inspiration  of  his  presence. 
And  his  visits  to  us  after  he  left  were  always  the  most  welcome 
events  that  came  into  our  years. 

Mr.  Truesdell  writes: — 

Mr.  Lawrence  was  so  dear  to  us  all  at  Sing  Sing,  and  the  year  of 
his  pastorate  here  was  such  a  bright  page  in  the  history  of  our 
church,  that  we  have  felt  ourselves  drawn  near  to  you.  You  will  re- 
member that  he  came  to  us  shortly  after  his  trip  around  the  world, 
his  whole  being  aglow  with  enthusiasm  in  view  of  the  work  in  the 
foreign  mission  field,  so  that  it  is  not  strange  that  his  stay  with  us 
was  marked  by  a  largely  increased  interest  in  the  great  cause.  He 
had  seen  and  knew,  and  he  helped  us  to  see  and  know. 

His  work  among  the  young  people  in  Sing  Sing  was  also  notable. 
He  had  a  peculiar  power  of  adaptability,  and  before  long,  under  his 
leadership,  the  Society  of  Christian  Service  was  organized.  The 
Christian  Endeavor  name  was  afterwards  adopted  in  order  to  bring 
the  society  into  closer  relationship  with  similar  societies  through  the 
country.  The  Christian  life  to  him  meant  service,  and  no  one  that 
knew  him  could  fail  to  see  how  unselfish  that  service  was  in  every 
thought  and  act  of  his  life.  It  was  a  rare  life  in  its  broad  minded 
philanthropy  and  devotion  to  everything  that  was  true  and  good. 

I  cannot  close  without  speaking  of  what  Mr.  Lawrence  was  to  us 
in  our  home  circle.  We  loved  to  hear  his  voice  at  the  door,  and  the 
children  were  always  looking  for  his  coming.  He  seemed  to  be  quite 
as  much  a  comianion  for  them  as  for  the  older  ones,  and  they  fre- 
quently received  the  most  of  his  attention.  There  were  sad  faces 
when  we  heard  that  he  had  gone  from  us  forever,  but  what  a  wealth 
of  comfort  we  all  have  in  every  remembrance  of  him ! 

Rev.  Edwin  Fairley,  of    Roseland,  N.  J.,  who   was  a 

teacher  for  some  time  in  Mr.  Holbrook's  Military  Academy 

in  Sing  Sing,  and  who  attended  the  Presbyterian  church 

there,  sent  the  following  letter: — 


330  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


I  want  to  express  to  you  the  great  sorrow  I  felt  when  the  Lord 
called  Dr.  Lawrence  to  a  higher  field.  I  came  to  know  him  while 
he  was  m  Smg  Sing.  I  heard  his  first  and  his  last  sermon  there,  and 
there  were  very  few  between  that  I  did  not  hear.  Although  five 
years  have  elapsed,  I  still  have  many  of  them  in  mind,  especially  one 
from  the  text,  "A  man  shall  be  as  rivers  of  water  in  a  dry  place." 
At  the  time  I  remarked  that  every  word  seemed  fitted  into  its  place 
like  a  jewel  into  its  setting.  It  was  the  most  finished  sermon  I  ever 
heard. 

Dr.  Lawrence's  influence  came  into  my  life  at  a  time  when  I 
needed  counsel.  I  was  rather  wavering  in  my  purpose  of  entering 
the  ministry,  but  the  example  he  set  me  and  the  personal  interest  he 
took  in  me,  were  a  tonic  which  had  the  desired  effect. 

As  a  preacher  he  was  one  whose  influence  grew  on  you. 
There  was  a  sense  of  reserved  power  about  him,  and  a  deep  earnest- 
ness which  increased  as  one  got  better  acquainted  with  him.  Al- 
most with  no  exception,  he  preached  without  notes,  and  always  held 
the  closest  attention  of  his  hearers.  Did  you  know  that  President 
Dwight  of  Yale  said  of  his  missionary  lectures  that  they  were  the  best 
he  had  ever  heard?  I  have  this  on  the  testimony  of  a  clergyman 
who  heard  the  lecture  and,  I  think.  Dr.  Dwight's  remark. 

Mr.  Lawrence  used  to  come  up  to  Mr.  Holbrook's  school  to  see 
us,  and  on  two  occasions  he  spoke  to  the  boys  publicly.  He  was  a 
thorough  enjoyer  of  life.  During  the  winter  he  often  skated  on  the 
river.  We  had  a  toboggan  slide  at  the  school,  and  I  remember  his 
pleasure  as  I  took  him  down  for  the  first  time.  He  was  far  from  be- 
ing anything  like  a  recluse.  Of  course  you  know  how  large  a  part  he 
filled  in  the  life  of  Ossinning  School.  The  graduating  class  of  1889 
took  for  their  motto  the  text  of  his  Baccalaureate  sermon  to  them, — 
"The  truth  shall  make  you  free,"  only  they  translated  it  into  German, 
"Die  wahreit  wird  dich  frei  machen." 

At  the  socials  of  the  church  Dr.  Lawrence  was  always  a  central 
figure,  and  you  may  be  sure  there  were  no  long  faces  in  his  vicinity. 
The  amazing  vitality  of  the  man  used  to  impress  me  then,  and  it  im- 
presses me  still  more  now  that  I  have  learned  something  of  the  out- 
lay of  strengh  and  time  that  the  ministry  requires. 

By  his  suggestion  the  young  people  were  organized  into  a  society 
of  Christian  Service.  At  its  business  meetings  he  was  always  pres- 
ent, and  his  wise  words  and  judicious  leadership  were  fully  appre- 
ciated. I  well  remember  the  last  sermon  he  preached  in  Sing  Sing, 
just  before  he  went  to  Baltimore.  As  he  spoke  the  words  of  farewell' 
there  were  not  many  dry  eyes  in  the  congregation. 

Baltimore,  The  Altamont,  June  loth,  1889. 
An  excursion,  to  which  I  was  invited,  brought  me  at  once  into  con- 
tact with  a  large  number  of  people.  The  city  has  a  free  summer  ex- 
cursion society.  It  furnishes  a  steamboat  with  capacity  for  fifteen 
hundred.  On  ten  successive  Thursdays  they  start  out  at  eight  in 
the  morning,  with  a  load  of  poor  people,  carefully  selected  by  tickets. 
End  a  hundred  helpers,  mainly  ladies.  They  steam  away  two  hours- 
to  Chestenwood,  a  beautiful  spot  of  sixteen  acres,  belonging  to  the 
society.  There  are  groves,  pavilions,  booths,  etc.,  all  kept  in  fine 
order.    They  have  two  meals  and  are  brought  back  by  seven,  P.  M. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  331 


Three  of  the  excursions  are  exclusively  for  colored  people,  and 
this  was  a  colored  day.  There  were  three  colored  preachers  on 
board,  who  spent  much  time  in  a  preaching  service,  baptism,  and  an 
experience  meeting.  It  was  just  the  hottest  kind  of  a  religious  time. 
An  old  granny  of  nearly  ninety  years  got  up,  jumping  and  bouncing 
like  a  rubber  ball.  They  shouted  and  shrieked  and  raved,  one  man 
marching  wildly  up  and  down.  The  three  preachers  leaned  on  the 
desk,  beaming  more  and  more  as  the  excitement  grew.  One  great 
mountain  of  flesh  would  get  out,  "Glory  to  Jesus  !"  then  sink  back  al- 
most in  a  fit. 

"We  don't  want  the  entertainments  here  to  conflict,"  said  the 
"locust"  (local)  preacher,  pointing  from  the  temple  to  the  dancing 
pavilion,  "so  we  shall  close  here  on  time.  But  first  you  will  be  en- 
tertained by  a  sermon  from  our  Brother."  Said  Brother  was  an  edu- 
cated darkey,  rather  too  mild  for  his  audience,  telling  them  that 
their  religion  wasn't  judged  by  the  noise  they  made.  I  noticed,  how- 
ever, that  the  greater  the  noise,  the  happier  he  grew.  Some  thirty  or 
forty  pickaninnies  were  baptized.  Then  they  danced,  though  not 
with  the  same  zest  as  in  their  worship.  "Nothing  like  'ligion"  for 
developing  the  feelings. 

As  a  preparation  for  the  meal,  nine  hundred  loaves  had  been  sliced 
by  two  bread-cutting  machines  in  thirty-five  minutes.  Red,  white,  or 
blue  tickets,  given  to  each,  directed  them  to  corresponding  booths, 
where  two  sandwiches  and  a  mug  of  tea  or  cofYee  were  passed  to 
them.  The  most  perfect  order,  despatch  and  system  prevailed. 
Sixty  or  seventy  ladies  go  down  every  week  and  make  all  the  ar- 
rangements. There  is  a  musical  committee,  a  medical  staff,  and 
everything  to  match.  On  the  way  home  we  kept  them  singing  negro 
melodies, — a  gay,  careless,  happy  throng. 

The  people  are  very  cordial  in  their  welcome.  And  Sunday  was 
all  through  a  pleasant  day.  I  preached  in  the  evening  on  "Lift  up 
your  eyes  and  look  over  the  fields," — a  resume  of  Saratoga.  The 
people  gave  good  attention.  It  is  a  small  flock,  but  they  seem  to  have 
the  material  of  growth.  And  the  social  life  begins  at  once.  I  tea 
out  to-night  at  Mr.  Belt's,  and  to-morrow  at  Mr.  Morris's,  our  former 
friend  in  Poughkeepsie,  who  belongs  to  a  Presbyterian  Church. 
You  will  recall  his  wife  as  a  member  of  Miss  White's  school  with 
Anna. 

My  room  in  the  Altamont  is  on  the  fifth  story,  with  a  view  along 
the  boulevard  over  all  the  housetops  out  to  the  Druid  Hill  Park.  It 
is  so  fine  as  to  be  some  compensation  for  the  unmatched  loveliness 
of  my  Sing  Sing  view. 

Wednesday.  I  am  still  studying  the  work  and  people,  hoping  to  be 
wisely  led.  Much  that  is  hopeful,  some  things  discouraging,  all  to 
be  taken  into  account. 

One  of  Edward's  earliest  pastoral  calls  was  at  Mr. 
Nunn's,  at  that  time  living  on  Bolton  St.,  not  far  from  the 
church,  of  which  Mr.  Nunn  was  both  a  deacon  and  a  trus- 
tee. The  little  girl,  Louie,  who  met  him  at  the  door,  he 
took  on  his  lap,  as  was  his  custom  with  the  little  folks.  As 


33-   REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  ASD  WORK 


Isir.  Xunn  was  not  at  home,  he  arranged  with  Mrs.  Xunn 
for  a  walk  with  him.  So  he  called  there  on  Saturday  after- 
noon, the  oldest  son,  Edward,  joining  them.  As  it  was  the 
Fourth  of  July,  they  went  to  Patterson  Park,  where  they 
heard  patriotic  speeches,  thence  to  the  river,  visiting  some 
of  the  German  vessels,  Edward  talking  with  the  sailors  in 
their  own  tongue,  ending  up  with  Fort  !McHenry. 

As  the  Xunn  family  was  one  of  those  abounding  in  hos- 
pitality, he  often  took  an  informal  meal  with  them,  be- 
coming acquainted  with  all  the  children,  with  the  exception 
of  the  eldest  daughter,  Elizabeth  Lowry,  who  ha^•ing  spent 
four  years  at  the  ^Maryland  Institute  of  Art  and  Design, 
was  at  this  time  in  Xew  York.  She  had  gone  there  to  at- 
tend the  Institute  for  Artists  and  Artisans.  She  also  took 
lessons  in  wood  carving,  making  the  collection-plates 
which  she  presented  to  the  Congregational  church,  and 
which  are  still  in  use. 

But  the  work  to  which  Lown.-  gave  herself  most  heartily 
was  the  teaching  of  the  roughest  boys  in  the  lower  part  of 
Baltimore;  a  work  under  the  charge  of  the  Unitarian 
church.  Rev.  Dr.  Weld,  the  pastor  of  that  church,  was  de- 
sirous to  have  the  boys  brought  into  the  Sunday  School. 
Lown.-  had  some  hard  cases  to  grapple  with,  but  was  so 
successful,  that  when  only  sixteen.  Dr.  Weld  appointed  her 
superintendent  of  the  guild.  Industrial  work  was  intro- 
duced, instruction  in  carving  and  moulding  falling  to  her. 
That  she  might  be  better  fitted  for  this  work  was  one  motive 
for  pursuing  her  studies  in  X'^ew  York,  although  while  she 
was  there  the  work  in  the  guild  \\-as  for  the  most  part  sus- 
pended. On  her  return  she  opened  a  studio  for  teaching 
carving  and  moulding,  as  well  as  free-hand  drawing.  But 
her  best  efforts  were  expended  on  the  guild. 

It  was  not  till  after  her  return  that  Edward  met  her.  He 
became  much  interested  in  her  work,  especially  as  he  came 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


333 


to  know  it  in  attending  the  exhibition,  of  which  a  sketch 

from  a  Baltimore  journal  follows: — 

The  Boys'  Guild  of  the  First  Independent  Christ  Church  gave  an 
exhibition  in  the  basement  of  the  church  last  night.  The  work 
shown  was  that  of  the  industrial  school,  which  is  conducted  by  Miss 
Nunn,  a  graduate  of  the  Maryland  Institute.  In  this  school  are 
gathered  newsboys  and  others,  who  are  taught  by  Miss  Nunn  and 
her  assistants  to  model  in  clay  and  also  free-hand  drawing  and  wood- 
carving.  About  sixty  boys  attend  this  school,  the  hours  being  from  , 
eight  to  ten  o'clock  on  Tuesday  and  Friday  evenings.  The  boys  pay 
a  small  fee,  so  that  they  will  feel  that  it  is  their  own  school,  rather 
than  a  charity.  The  congregation  and  outsiders  contribute  liberally 
to  support  the  school.  The  boys  also  have  the  use  of  books  from  the 
guild  library. 

Miss  Nunn  is  devoted  to  the  work  of  teaching  these  boys,  gathered 
as  they  are  are  from  among  the  poorer  classes,  and  the  boys  repay 
her  kindness  by  strict  obedience  and  attention  to  their  studies.  Last 
night,  from  eight  to  nine  o'clock,  there  was  a  constant  stream  of 
visitors.  Many  of  the  boys  brought  with  them  their  fathers  and 
noihers  and  friends  to  examine  their  handiwork,  and  much  pleased 
were  they  at  the  progress  made. 

The  Altamont,  June  17th,  1889. 

It  has  been  a  pleasant,  though  unsettled  week,  much  visiting  and 
inspecting.  I  have  been  looking  out  for  snags,  but  so  far  have 
struck  none.  Yesterday  the  trustees  voted  unanimously  the  only 
points  I  asked — six  weeks'  vacation,  and  the  fitting  of  the  upper 
room  in  the  church  for  a  study.  This  will  give  me,  practically,  two 
rooms, — the  small  reception  room  down-stairs,  easy  of  access,  and 
the  study  upstairs  and  away.  I  shall  receive  my  afternoon  calls  in 
the  reception  room. 

There  is  much  more  New  England  blood  in  the  church  than  in 
either  Poughkeepsie  or  Syracuse,  also  some  pure  Baltimoreans.  It 
is  a  wide-awake,  active,  busy  people,  cordial  and  social.  The 
libraries  here  are  delightful,  the  city  beautiful.  I  dined  one  day  with 
Mr.  Stickney.  who  is  the  quintessence  of  New  England  Congregation- 
alism, a  rich  bachelor,  a  polished  gentleman,  peculiar  and  interesting. 
There  has  been  much  good  work  done  here  in  the  past,  which  in  one 
way  is  discouraging,  because  with  such  good  work  there  has  been  so 
little  growth.    The  Charity  Organization  here  opens  up  invitingly. 

In  reply  to  your  inquiry  as  to  the  exact  meaning  of  Volapuk,  I 
would  say  that  it  is  a  universal  language  devised  in  Germany  and 
somewhat  extensively  used  already  in  business  correspondence.  It 
has  ardent  advocates,  but  will  hardly,  I  think,  be  the  language  of  the 
future. 

On  June  24th  the  following  appeared  in  one  of  the  Balti- 
more papers: — 

Rev.  Edward  A.  Lawrence,  who  in  May  was  called  to  the  pastorate 
of  the  First  Congregational  Church  of  this  city,  and  who  came  early 
in  June  to  look  over  the  field,  yesterday  morning  announced  to  the 
congregation  his  acceptance  of  the  call.   He  followed  up  the  declara- 


334   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


tion  of  his  decision  with  a  sermon  of  no  ordinary  power  upon  the  re- 
lationship of  people  to  pastor,  and  vice  versa,  and  of  both  to  the 
cause  of  Christ.  It  was  an  entirely  extemporaneous  discourse,  de- 
livered with  much  feeling,  and  replete  with  strength  in  illustrative 
examples  of  what  he  termed  the  Christian  church  as  distinguished 
from  a  Christless  church ;  the  one  a  man-of-war,  with  fully-equipped 
men,  to  run  down  and  destroy  the  rams  and  batteries  of  opposing 
forces ;  the  other  an  excursion  boat,  with  gay  banners  flying,  and  all 
aboard  bent  upon  a  good  time  to-day,  without  thought  or  fear  of  the 
morrow.  He  was  particularly  happy  in  his  preliminary  five  minutes 
sermon  to  children,  from  the  text,  "Suffer  little  children  to  come  un- 
to me."  His  chief  practical  illustration  was  drawn  from  his  observa- 
tion on  a  visit  during  the  week  to  one  of  the  large  canning  factories 
of  the  city,  where  he  learned  that  the  value  of  the  small  peas  was 
double  that  of  the  large  ones.  This  fact  he  turned  very  effectively  in 
pointing  his  remarks,  and  the  large  number  of  children  in  the  con- 
gregation were  evidently  greatly  interested. 

Edward  writes  his  mother.    "It  does  not  seem  as  if  I 

had  anything  to  do  except  to  take  each  step  as  God  has 

led  me." 

The  Altamont,  June  27th. 
The  whole  community  is  being  broadened,  and  sectarianism  is  dis- 
solving, in  which  work  Congregationalism  is  to  play  an  important 
part. 

June  8th,  iSSg. 

I  found  so  many  churches  about  us  closed  in  the  evening  that  I 
asked  the  trustees,  who  had  voted  to  close  our  church  also,  to  leave 
the  matter  in  my  hands.  So  I  preached  last  night  to  the  largest 
audience  I  ever  have  had.  Having  just  come,  I  feel  well  and  fresh, 
and  can  easily  do  it.  Our  relations  are  specially  fraternal  with 
Brown  Memorial  Church,  where  Rev.  Maltbie  Babcock  is  pastor, 
who  married  Miss  Tolman  of  Poughkeepsie.  At  their  closing  ser- 
vice he  spoke  very  kindly  of  me,  and  urged  his  people,  while  their 
church  was  closed,  to  attend  our  church.  So  they  came  in  large 
numbers. 

July  isth. 

On  Thursday  I  go  seventy  miles  out  to  Blue  Ridge  to  Monterey  to 
visit  Mrs.  Hawley,  who  has  a  cottage  there,  returning  here  Saturday. 
On  ]\Ionday  I  leave  for  New  York,  coming  to  Boston  by  the  Fall 
River  boat.  I  shall  be  glad  to  meet  the  friends  at  Linden  Home,  as 
you  have  arranged. 

Hathorn's,  Raquette  Lake,  Aug.  7th,  18S9. 
Well,  dear  mother,  if  there  ever  was  a  question  about  this  region 
it  is  answered  now.  I  had  a  little  curiosity  to  see  how  it  would 
strike  me  after  four  years'  absence  and  a  tour  du  monde.  But  after 
all  seen  and  done,  I  must  say  that  nothing  in  nature  so  thoroughly 
satisfies  me  as  this.  It  fills  me  up,  meets  every  want,  is  good  _  all 
round.  And  I  never  loved  it  so  much  as  now.  The  old  first  im- 
pressions seem  renewed.  There  is  even  greater  enjoyment  because 
larger  capacitv.    The  variegated  green  of  the  woods,  the  blue  and 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  335 


white  of  the  sky,  the  silver  gleam  of  the  water,  how  wonderful  in 
such  conjunction! 

Fourth  Lake,  Aug,  nth,  1889. 

My  Dear  Mother:— 

Your  letter  and  the  one  you  forwarded  from 
Baltimore  reached  me  in  good  season.  They  wish  me  to  speak  on 
Athanasius  in  a  course  of  lectures  before  the  Johns  Hopkins  Y.  M. 
C.  A.,  which  I  have  written  I  will  do.  .  .  I  greatly  enjoyed  all  our 
guests  at  home,  especially  dear  Theodore  Weld.  You  took  great 
pains  to  bring  the  visits  about. 

Theodore  Weld,  who  was  always  a  delightful  guest, 
went  with  us  Sunday  morning  to  hear  Edward  preach  in 
the  little  chapel  on  Marblehead  Neck.  After  our  return  he 
showed  his  appreciation  of  the  sermon  by  doing  what 
Tholuck  did  on  hearing  him  play  and  sing.  "Die  wacht  am 
Rheinf  he  put  his  arms  'around  his  neck  and  embraced 
him.  And  in  a  visit  we  made  him  soon  after  Edward's  de- 
parture he  could  not  speak  of  him  without  tears. 

Wallace  shows  his  literary  disposition  in  slinging  ink  so  dexter- 
ously on  the  carpet.  .  .  Your  situation  at  home  alone  is  not  what 
I  wish.  But  the  Lord  leads  step  by  step  and  he  will  make  all 
plain.  .  .  Miss  Fuller's  letter  is  most  interesting.  I  am  glad  she 
is  going  to  Martha's  Vineyard. 

Jack  Sheppard's  steamer  makes  a  free  trip  on  Sunday,  bringing 
people  all  along  the  lake  to  service.  This  year  Hess  arranged  to 
have  it  on  his  island.    There  were  about  seventy  present. 

McCoy's  Hotel.  This  last  week  has  practically  been  given  to  the 
ascent  of  Mt.  Seward,  the  greatest  thing  we  have  undertaken,  in- 
volving a  hundred  miles  of  rowing  and  forty  miles  of  tramping. 
Monday  morning  down  Tupper  Lakes,  past  the  Devil's  Pulpit,  to 
Martin  Moody's  for  dinner.  Martin  claims  relationship  with  Dwight 
Moody.  He  needs  the  attention  of  his  cousin,  for  he  is  known  as  the 
teller  of  the  biggest  stories  in  the  woods,  of  which  the  following  is 
a  specimen.  He  was  out  splitting  logs  when  a  bear  came  along  in 
vicious  mood.  Weaponless,  he  manoeuvred  about  a  log  till  the 
bear  got  his  tail  in  a  cleft.  Then  he  suddenly  brought  out  his  axe 
and  Bruin  being  caught  fast  by  his  tail,  it  was  easy  to  brain  him. 
He  excuses  himself  by  saying  that  there  are  lots  of  fools  that  want 
stories,  but  will  not  believe  him  unless  he  lies  to  them.  But  every 
one  should  know  that  such  a  story  is  a  lie,  because  a  bear  has  no 
tail.    .  . 

From  Moody's  we  went  up  the  Raquette  River  through  the 
desolate,  flooded  region.  Leaving  our  boat,  we  heard  at  Long  Lake 
that  an  old  Frenchman  had  cut  a  trail  to  one  of  the  peaks,  and  that 
we  should  do  well  to  get  a  Robinson  boy  to  make  the  climb  with 
us.  At  eight  in  the  evening  we  reached  the  Sagamore  Hotel  on 
Long  Lake.  The  house  was  packed  full.  "Not  a  corner  for  you, — 
no  cots  even."    But  we  made  ourselves  known  as  old  Adirondackers, 


336   REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


three  of  us  clergj-men.  They  began  to  consult.  The  clerk  gave  up 
his  room  for  two;  then  they  put  together  a  big  bedstead,  set  it  up 
in  the  large  parloi*  with  a  fine  bed  on  it,  and  gave  Jonathan  and  me 
entire  possession, — about  the  largest  bed  chamber  we  ever  had  in 
the  woods,  except  when  we  camped  in  the  open  air.  Here  we  ar- 
ranged with  a  brother  of  our  former  guide.  Jack  Robinson,  to  make 
the  Seward  climb  with  us.  He  had  never  made  it,  but  for  that  matter 
no  one  there  had  done  so.  We  could  not  get  off  before  three 
o'clock,  so  that  it  was  half  past  five  before  we  reached  the  island 
where  we  decided  to  pass  the  night  and  the  next  day  took  the 
Nannie  O.  round  to  Bartlett's. 

Thursday  morning  we  were  off  from  the  island  at  quar- 
ter past  seven.  Up  Cold  River  a  mile,  leaving  our  boats 
in  the  bushes.  Along  the  river,  about  three  miles  to  find 
Harnay's  trail,  almost  everj-  tree  being  blazed  and  the  travelling 
easy.  Water  was  abundant  and  we  lunched  on  pork,  bread  and  but- 
ter, cookies  and  hot  water,  beside  a  lovelj'  brook.  About  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon,  after  passing  through  a  region  haunted  by  deer 
and  bears,  we  reached  Harnay's  Peak.  But  once  on  it,  we  discov- 
ered that  the  summit  was  far  away,  seeming  half  a  day's  journey. 
Then  we  struck  into  the  woods  on  our  own  trail,  hurr\-ing  on  until 
dark.  About  half  past  six  we  were  at  the  foot  of  what  we  took  for 
the  peak.  So  quite  in  the  gloaming  we  cut  our  wood,  had  a  grand 
fire  made  and  supper  cooked.  Then  we  gathered  balsam  boughs  for 
our  bed.  and  how  we  did  sleep  I  The  grand  trees  above  us  towered 
and  towered  away  into  the  sky  until  they  seemed  to  be  bearing  up  the 
starrj-  heavens  that  glittered  through  upon  us.  In  the  morning,  at 
half  past  seven,  we  were  off  again.  The  climbins  grew  harder  and 
the  trees  denser.  But  each  new  peak  disclosed  a  farther  one  beyond 
deep  ravines.  So  we  struggled  on  from  peak  to  peak,  through  ravine 
after  ravine,  always  in  the  dense  forest,  with  only  an  occasional  out- 
look. There  were  also  great  cliffs  and  ledges,  which  we  had  to  scale 
or  shun. 

At  last,  about  half  past  three,  after  a  desperate  push  through 
the  scrub  spruce  which  covered  the  top,  we  were  at  the  signal.  We 
have  never  had  such  a  tug  for  a  top.  But.  what  a  view !  The  day 
was  hazy,  yet  we  counted  twent\"-five  lakes,  and  a  clear  day  must 
have  brought  out  others.  Long  Lake  stretches  far  away  with  its 
pointed  shores,  the  Saranac.  the  Tupper,  little  Tupper,  glorious  in 
sunlight,  at  the  extreme  point  of  vision.  Raquette  river.  Ampersand, 
and  many  others,  and  then  the  peaks  scattered  on  ever>-  side.  But 
what  a  vast  mass, — this  'Sit.  Seward  itself!  No  mountain  in  the 
woods  where  so  much  land  and  rock  are  piled  up — some  five  or  six 
distinct  peaks,  on  all  of  which  but  one  we  had  been.  It  was  a 
moment  of  praise  to  the  Lord  who  had  guided  us  to  this  glor>-  of  his 
creation.  A  few  jubilant,  exalted  moments  of  transfigured  vision! 
Then  a  speedy  retreat,  for  night  must  not  find  us  on  the  peak. 
Working  around,  or  sliding  down  the  ledges,  we  soon  dropped  1.500 
feet,  and  by  half  past  six  were  again  preparing  to  camp  beside  a 
gurgling  brook  in  the  dense  forest. 

Up  at  davbreak  Saturday  morning,  and  off  at  half  past 
six.    A  line   due  south   for   Cold  River.    Seven   miles   took  us 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


337 


there,  which  means  about  five  hours'  walking.  In  the  woods 
one  does  well  to  make  two  miles  an  hour,  and  often  only  one 
is  possible.  Cold  River  once  reached,  the  trail  was  easy,  and  nine 
miles  brought  us  to  the  boat.  But  the  lack  of  proper  nourishment 
told  on  us.  Just  then  as  a  raven  brought  food  to  Elijah,  a  plump 
partridge  was  sent  into  the  way  of  our  guides,  and  we  lunched  on 
this  gift  from  heaven.  About  six  o'clock  we  were  in  the  Nannie  O. 
How  delightful  to  be  in  the  dear  boat  again !  But  we  had  twelve 
hours  of  rowing  before  us,  with  a  draw  of  a  mile  and  a  half.  We 
dismissed  our  guide,  then  shot  \  down  the  Raquette,  and  in  fifty 
minutes  the  first  five  miles  were  passed.  I  hurried  across  the  carry, 
ordered  supper,  and  also  ordered  a  wagon  for  our  boat,  helping  to 
catch  one  of  the  horses.  About  half  past  eight,  we  were  on  the 
Raquette  again,  and  off  for  our  final  pull  of  seven  miles.  There  was 
no  moon,  but  a  starlit  heaven.  The  banks  were  covered  with  forests, 
whose  great  trees  cast  their  gloomy  shadow  all  over  the  river  except 
where  it  mirrored  the  sky.  The  influence  of  that  night-row  on  the 
forest  river  is  still  upon  me.  Nothing  but  woods,  water,  and  stars,  all 
strangely  and  darkly  blended.  It  was  ever  a  push  on  into  blackness, 
save  for  the  path  in  the  gloomy  river  where  the  stars  were  mirrored. 
An  awestruck,  unearthly  feeling  came  over  us.  It  was  as  if  we  were 
on  the  river  of  Hades,  gliding  down  Styx,  Phlegethon,  or  Lethe 
and  Acheron.  I  rowed,  Jonathan  steered,  and  we  seemed  to  be 
Palinurus  and  Charon  sent  to  carry  an  invisible  load  of  souls  to  the 
dark  abode. 

It  was  very  difficult  to  find  our  way.  I  rowed  steadily,  but  slowly, 
both  of  us  on  the  watch.  Now  we  were  suddenly  ashore  on  a  sandy 
beach,  which  looked  like  wind-ruffled  water.  Now  we  stopped, 
scared  by  something  which  proved  only  a  dark  shadow.  Then  we 
glided  past  projecting  logs  that  might  have  wrecked  the  boat.  Twice 
we  ran  into  logs,  but  with  warning  enough  to  break  the  shock.  We 
were  tempted  into  swales  and  marshes,  and  often  bewildered  by  some 
sudden  turn  of  the  dark  gleaming  river  to  know  whether  it  was 
water,  shore,  or  air.  It  was  the  most  gruesome,  unearthly  row  we 
ever  had.  Sometimes  the  very  stars  seemed  hidden  without  cloud 
or  mist.  Then  Venus  blazed  out  like  a  moon.  All  at  once  we  were 
surprised  by  familiar  signs  and  found  that  an  hour  and  a  half  had 
slipped  away  as  in  a  dream,  and  we  were  near  our  landing  place. 
With  what  concern  you  and  Mrs.  Hall  would  have  watched 
us  could  you  have  seen  us  on  that  river  of  the  shades !  And  now  we 
were  back  on  earth  again.  How  many  must  row  down  life's  stream 
in  just  such  mysterious  darkness,  scared  by  imaginary  dangers,  ig- 
norant of  real  harms,  not  knowing  whether  the  lights  are  above  or 
beneath  them ! 

Leaving  the  boat,  we  donned  our  packs  and  set  off  on  the  three 
miles'  walk.  Just  before  midnight  we  succeeded  in  rousing  Mr.  Mc- 
Coy, who  had  given  us  up. 

On  August  26th  there  came  from  Saranac  Lake  a  tele- 
gram to  Edward's  sister,  then  at  Marblehead: — "How  is. 
Mother?    Shall  I  come  home?    Reply  immediately." 


338   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Aug.  27th. 

Dear  Mother: — 

Anna's  telegram  was  delayed,  but  your  letter  of  Satur- 
day has  come  bringing  great  relief.  Hearing  that  you  were  ill,  after 
my  former  experience,  I  did  not  feel  that  I  could  go  on  without 
more  definite  tidings.  Take  great  care  of  yourself,  for  I  depend  on 
you  this  winter  in  Baltimore. 

Elizabethtown,  Sept.  1st,  1S89. 
We  must  have  tramped  and  rowed  from  four  to  five  hundred  miles 
in  the  last  four  weeks,  climbed  eight  mountains,  visited  over  thirty 
waters, — the  best  yet,  we  say.    Both  come  out  in  fine  condition. 

Baltimore.  Sept.  loth,  1889. 
After  delightful  visits  at  Champlain  and  Poughkeepsie  I  reached 
here  safely  and  am  in  my  new    quarters,    1021    McCulloch    St.,  a 
pleasant  fourth-story  room. 

The  Study  in  the  Church,  Sept.  12th. 
All  my  books  are  up  except  one  case,  my  pictures  hung,  my  stand- 
ing desk  and  sermon  case  in  position,  chairs  and  lounge,  et  cetera. 
Desk  and  organ  yet  to  be  brought  in,  carpet  and  stove  to  be  pro- 
cured. Everything  harmonizes  with  the  fresco.  I  could  not  have  a 
pleasanter  study.  As  to  my  boarding  place,  it  is  kept  by  three 
maiden  sisters,  genial,  Christian,  excellent  housekeepers,  delicate, 
abundant  table. 

I  want  you  to  know  Baltimore  and  my  people.  There  is  much 
work  to  be  done  in  building  up.  It  will  take  time  and  patience,  but 
there  are  willing  helpers. 

You  will  have  heard  that  the  Douglas  Axe  Company  has  failed,  and 
through  the  treachery  of  the  manager.  And  I  suppose  we  have  lost 
all  of  our  investments.    But  we  will  take  it  patiently. 

Baltimore,  Sept.  i6th,  1889. 
I  have  just  secured  our  rooms  from  Nov.  1st,  for  as  long  as  we 
choose.  They  are  on  the  second  story,  one  a  large  front  room  for 
you,  the  other,  back  of  it  and  connecting  with  it,  for  me.  It  is  just 
seven  doors  from  there  to  our  boarding  place,  the  Tysons,  two  blocks 
from  the  church,  and  one  from  the  horse  cars,  running  down  town. 
Our  hostess,  Mrs.  Ferguson,  is  Scotch,  a  genial,  motherly  body,  with 
a  daughter  and  two  sons,  all  grown  up.  I  tea  to-night  with  Mrs. 
Carey,  formerly  Miss  Wing  of  Poughkeepsie,  our  next  door  neigh- 
bor. Our  breakfast  hour  is  eight,  but  I  take  mine  alone  at  half  past 
seven,  in  which  you  can  join  me.  Our  fellow-boarders  will  be 
mainly  Johns  Hopkins  students. 

Sept.  25th. 

I  don't  find  my  Hebrew  Bible.  If  you  can  find  one  on  father's 
desk  or  eleswhere,  please  bring  it. 

Let  me  know  what  is  needed  to  pay  up  the  bills  and  I  will  send  on 
the  money.  How  can  it  better  be  used  than  for  your  comfort  and 
my  pleasure  in  having  you  here?  I  don't  want  you  to  economize  on 
yourself.    You  have  done  it  long  enough  for  us. 

Oct.  loth,  1889. 

In  visiting  an  old  Phillips  Academy  classmate,  Owens  Shepherd, 
living  out  in  the  country  on  a  farm  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  acres,  I 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


339 


called  on  a  colored  Presbyterian  minister,  a  graduate  of  Lincoln 
University,  who  has  a  little  church  there,  and  a  school  of  from  sixty 
to  seventy  scholars.  Mrs.  Shepherd  says  he  does  more  good  than 
any  clergyman  in  that  section. 

This  afternoon  I  assist  in  laying  the  corner  stone  of  the  Associate 
Reformed  Church,  which  is  independent,  Mr.  Ball,  the  pastor,  be- 
ing a  Congregationalist.  Directly  after  that  to  an  "At  Home"  of 
Mrs.  Presidei.t  Oilman. 

Baltimore,  Oct.  3rd,  1889. 
I  wish  you  could  have  been  here  at  our  Harvest  Home  service.  The 
germ  of  it  I  had  in  Poughkeepsie,  but  I  developed  it  still  farther  to- 
day. Subject, — Fruits  of  the  Spirit.  The  Tree,  Rev.  22  :  2,  bore 
twelve  manners  of  fruit, — one  for  each  month, its  leaves  for  the  heal- 
ing of  the  nations.  I  add  three  to  the  nine  months,  making  twelve. 
We  brought  in  a  large  tree  with  leaves,  placing  it  in  the  centre  of 
the  harvest-fruits,  then  hung  on  it,  wrapped  in  the  leaves,  twelve  dif- 
ferent fruits.  I  called  for  January.  A  scholar  brought  me  from  the 
tree  a  fruit,  which  I  opened  and  laid  on  a  silver  tray.  It  was  a  fig. 
Meantime,  a  class  recited  two  or  three  passages  on  Life  as  the  fruit 
of  the  Spirit.  I  said  a  few  words  and  led  on  to  February,  which 
was  Faith  and  Prunes,  and  so  on  through  March,  Dates — Hope; 
April,  Pear — Liberty;  May,  Apple — Meekness;  June,  Peach — Joy; 
July,  Banana — Kindness  ;  August,  Quince — Goodness  ;  September, 
Lemon — Temperance  ;  October,  Grapes — Love  ;  November,  Persim- 
mon— Long  Suffering ;  December,  Orange — Peace.  All  went  through 
without  a  break,  and  all  seemed  delighted.  I  trust  it  was  profitable 
for  old  and  young. 

On  his  way  to  the  meeting  of  the  Board  at  New  York, 

Edward   made  a  little   stop   at  Sing  Sing,  of  which  he 

writes: — "I  could  not  have  had  a  warmer  reception  than 

they  gave  me  at  Ossinning.    I  made  a  number  of  calls, 

and  met  the  young  people  just  coming  from  a  Christian 

Service  meeting.'' 

Yesterday  afternoon  I  was  present  at  the  opening  of  the  Board. 
Dined  at  Dr.  Lyman  Abbott's  at  six,  where  I  met  Mr.  Marden  of 
Colorado  College  and  Mr.  Crittenden,  who,  you  say,  used  to  appear 
and  disappear  and  reappear.  I  was  put  on  the  Japan  Committee 
with  Professors  Fisher  and  Tucker,  General  Howard  and  President 
Northrup,  a  broad,  liberal  committee  on  an  important  field. 

I  am  glad  you  are  to  speak  at  the  Concord  Reformatory.  Speak  to 
the  men  as  just  what  they  are, — men  who  need  help  and  may  be  en- 
couraged to  help  themselves, — as  you  would  to  any  ordinary  com- 
pany of  men. 

Edward's  installation  occurred  November  21st.  His 
mother  joined  him  previously,  and  his  sister  and  her  hus- 


340    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


band, — Dr.  and  I\Irs.  Xims  from  Syracuse.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hall  from  Plattsburgh,  and  other  friends  being  present. 

The  next  evening  there  was  a  grand  reception  in  the 
church  parlors,  which  were  decorated  with  bunting  and 
flags,  and  where  people  of  diverse  denominations  were  gath- 
ered. 

]\Ir.  Henry  Stockbridge.  one  of  the  earliest  and  most  in- 
fluential members  of  the  church,  and  a  genuine  Xew  Eng- 
lander,  introduced  to  the  new  pastor  a  number  of  promi- 
nent men  in  the  city,  with  representatives  from  the  Presby- 
terian, Baptist,  Independent,  Methodist,  Lutheran,  Re- 
formed Dutch,  Friends,  Episcopal  and  Swedenborgian 
churches.  This  was  warmly  appreciated  by  Edward,  espec- 
ially as  it  gave  him  a  fine  opportunity  in  a  short  time  to 
learn  much  of  his  new  environment. 

The  ladies  had  prepared  an  elaborate  entertainment — 
raw  oysters  in  their  shells  and  also  on  ice — a  special  favor- 
ite in  that  gastronomic  city — ^being  present  in  abundance. 
Among  the  invited  guests  was  Judge  Brown,  who  was 
mayor  of  Baltimore  at  the  time  of  the  riot  in  the  streets 
early  in  the  Civil  War,  when  the  Baltimore  seceders  at- 
tacked the  Sixth  Massachusetts  regiment.  For  counte- 
nancing this,  the  mayor  was  imprisoned  in  Fort  Warren, 
but  after  the  war  was  ended,  he  accepted  tiie  result  and  be- 
came a  good  citizen.  At  the  reception  he  made  an  address, 
the  substance  of  which  was  that  some  years  ago,  while  trav- 
elling in  Canada,  he  fell  in  with  a  party  that  was  going  up 
the  Saguenay ;  that  he  became  greatly  interested  in  a  young 
clerg}-man  of  the  party,  and  earnestly  wished  that  he  might 
come  to  Baltimore  as  pastor  of  the  Congregational  church, 
though  he  himself  was  an  Episcopalian.  He  went  on  to  say 
that  he  had  been  abroad  for  some  time,  and  on  returning, 
found  that  his  wish  had  come  to  pass,  and  he  now  ex- 
tended his  right  hand  of  welcome  to  the  Rev.  iMr.  Law- 
rence.   Of  course,  this  was  a  charming  episode. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


Other  speeches  were  made,  and  among  them  one  by  Mr. 
W.  H.  Morris,  of  whom  mention  has  been  made,  and  who  is 
the  secretary  of  the  Y.M.C.A.  of  Baltimore.  He  spoke  of 
Edward  as  foimding  the  Charity  Organization  Society  in 
Poughkeepsie  and  of  his  readiness  to  help  in  every  good 
work.  But  of  all  this  he  speaks  more  fully  in  the  following 
letter,  written  after  Edward  left  us. 

My  Dear  Mrs.  Lawrence: — 

It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  recall  the  years  of 
fellowship  I  had  with  your  son,  and  my  dear  friend,  the  late  Edward 
A.  Lawrence.  In  September,  1875,  he  and  I  commenced  work  to- 
gether in  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y.,  he  as  pastor  of  the  Congregational 
Church,  and  I  as  secretary  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Associa- 
tion. By  a  singular  coincidence,  we  reached  the  city  on  the  same 
day.  I  was  present  at  his  installation  and  he  at  my  introduction  to 
my  new  work.  For  seven  years  we  worked  side  by  side  and  I 
learned,  as  we  all  learned  who  were  privileged  to  be  his  co-laborers, 
to  esteem  him  highly  for  his  work,  and  to  love  him  dearly  for  his 
true,  manly  friendship  and  counsel.  As  I  recall  these  years  of  de- 
lightful service  together,  the  recollection  of  his  desire  to  inspire  and 
help  others  impressed  me  deeply.  All  th^  rich  furnishings  of  his 
mind  were  shared  with  his  friends.  Was  there  a  desire  on  the  part 
of  the  young  people  to  study  German,  his  was  the  ready  hand  to 
organize  and  conduct  such  a  class,  and  I  remember  with  deep  grati- 
tude his  labors  in  a  class  of  which  I  had  the  privilege  of  being  a 
member.  Was  it  a  Charity  Organization  to  be  put  in  motion,  his 
was  the  hand  at  the  helm,  and  the  heart  to  deal  wisely  and  sym- 
pathetically with  the  problems  connected  with  such  an  undertaking. 
These  were  the  early  days  of  social  economics,  and  a  broad-minded 
and  warm-hearted  leader  was  needed,  and  JVIr.  Lawrence  proved  just 
the  man  to  direct  and  control.  Until  the  time  of  his  leaving  Pough- 
keepsie he  was  at  the  head  of  the  Charity  Organization,  and  what- 
ever of  success  it  had  in  solving  the  difficult  problems  incident  to 
this  kind  of  work  is  justly  due  to  him. 

Broad  in  his  sympathies,  catholic  in  spirit,  every  good  enterprise 
appealed  to  him,  and  his  hand  and  heart  were  always  at  the  service 
of  his  fellows. 

I  was  privileged  to  visit  him  at  his  church  in  Syracuse,  and  to  see 
him  frequently  after  his  return  from  his  missionary  tour  around  the 
world,  and  all  my  intercourse  only  served  to  deepen  my  admiration 
for  his  talents,  and  to  discover  more  and  more  the  sincere  love  of  his 
fellow  men  of  all  nations  and  climes  which  characterized  his  whole 
life. 

After  his  return  from  his  tour  of  the  mission  stations  I  learned 
that  he  might  possibly  be  secured  for  the  pastorate  of  the  Congrega- 
tional Church  in  Baltimore,  then  vacant,  and  I  suggested  his  name  to 
the  committee.  He  accepted  the  call  to  Baltimore,  and  the  friendship 
of  the  past  was  again  renewed  with  keen  pleasure.    He  was    a  fre- 


342   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


quent  visitor  at  my  home,  and  his  tenderness  and  love  is  warmly 
cherished  by  all  the  members  of  mj'  familj'. 

The  broad,  catholic  spirit  that  always  characterized  him  was 
manifested  in  all  his  work  in  Baltimore,  but  the  story  of  these  years 
may  well  be  told  by  others. 

My  memorj'  of  him  will  always  be  an  inspiration,  and  I  shall  cher- 
ish it  in  the  hope  that  "some  sweet  day"  it  will  be  renewed,  never 
more  to  be  broken. 

On  Thanksgiving  day,  which  came  the  week  after  his  in- 
stallation, in  accordance  with  the  appeal  of  some  three  hun- 
dred clergymen  to  all  preachers, — Edward  made  Civil 
Service  Reform  the  subject  of  his  sermon.  In  closing,  he 
remarked : — 

Finally,  it  is  objected  that  without  the  emoluments  of  office,  party 
zeal  would  decline.  That,  however,  is  one  of  the  strongest  argu- 
ments in  favor  of  the  merit  system.  It  would  diminish  that  blind 
partisanship  which  is  really  only  a  scramble  for  office.  .  .  For 
forty  years  patriotic  and  other  motives  were  strong  enough  to  con- 
duct the  government  without  the  spoils  system.  It  is  a  question 
whether  the  government  is  strong  enough  to  endure  the  unrestricted 
spoils  system  forty  years  longer.  Let  righteousness  prevail  through 
your  fidelity,  j-our  intelligence,  j'our  patriotism,  your  opposition  to 
organized  bribery,  to  official  plunder  and  to  party  spoils. 

Edward  and  his  mother  dined  at  iNIr.  Stockbridge's, 
whose  wife  having  been  a  great  traveller  was  full  of  inter- 
esting reminiscences. 

December  was  a  busy  month,  with  calls  and  informal 
teas  among  the  people.  A  Christmas  festival  was  held  in 
the  Sunday  School  rooms  of  the  Congregational  church,  at 
which  Major  Pangborne  arranged  for  a  calisthenic  exhibi- 
tion by  about  fifty  little  children  from  the  W.  C.  T.  U, 
kindergarten  on  East  Baltimore  St.,  after  which  sliding 
doors  were  suddenly  opened  and  a  Christmas  tree  was  re- 
vealed, followed  by  the  appetizing  gifts  of  Santa  Claus  to 
the  delighted  little  folks. 

Edward  at  once  entered  warmly  into  the  temperance 
work,  and  he  had  no  truer  friends  than  the  members  of  the 
W.  C.  T.  U.,  as  the  following  letters  indicate: — 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  343 


From  Mrs.  Sarah  W.  Tudor,  a  member  of  the  Quaker 
church:  "It  was  upon  the  reception  of  Rev.  Edward  A. 
Lawrence  as  the  pastor  of  the  First  Congregational  church 
that  I  first  met  him  and  was  attracted  by  his  genial  pres- 
ence, his  cordiality  and  his  conversational  powers,  which 
were  truly  characteristic.  His  sermons  were  soul-inspiring, 
soul-contirming.  He  was  endowed  with  remarkable  vigor 
of  mind,  unusual  intensity  of  purpose,  and  with  an  innate 
intuition  of  life  and  its  responsibilities  which  peculiarly 
fitted  him  as  a  philanthropist  for  the  manifold  calls  made 
upon  him,  to  which  he  responded  ■  so  magnanimously.  In 
him  the  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union  found  a 
valued  friend  and  advocate  on  whom  they  could  depend  im- 
plicity.  After  the  purchase  of  the  building  known  as  The 
First  National  Bank  of  Baltimore  it  was  remodeled.  And 
on  Sept.  13th,  1891,  it  was  dedicated  as  the  Memorial  Build- 
ing and  Headquarters  of  the  W.C.T.U.,  of  Maryland.  It  is 
my  privilege  to  give  his  unique  address  upon  that  occasion, 
verbatim;  believing  his  friends  will  recognize  in  it,  the  char- 
acteristics of  the  man. 

This  Memorial  Building  is 

A  History  and  a  Prophecy; 
A  Memory  and  a  Ministry; 
An  Oratory  and  a  Laboratory; 
A  School  of  Industry; 
A  Palace  of  Pleasure; 
A  Temple  of  Praise. 

It  is  dedicated  to  Temperance  and  Beneficence; 
To  Reform,  Prevention  and  Regeneration; 
To  the  Home,  the  People,  the  Church ; 
To  the  Glory  of  God,  and  the  Good  of  Man. 
May  God's  Blessing  ever  abide  on  it,  and  on  all  who  go  in  and  out 
of  its  doors ! 

At  the  crusade  anniversary  of  the  Baltimore  Women's  Christian 
Temperance  Union,  for  which  he  was  the  orator  of  the  day,  and  his 
mother  an  invited  guest,  I  love  to  recall  the  merry  twinkling  of  his 
eyes  and  the  humor  of  his  animated  countenance  while  being  so  un- 
ceremoniously introduced  to  his  audience,  through  the  writings  and 
incidents  in  the  life  of  "Meta  Lander,"  as  his  mother — whom  he  re- 
garded with  the  tenderest  devotion — would  not  consent  to  a  formal 
introduction. 


344    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


From  Mrs.  Juliet  S.  Baldwin,  a  prominent  member,  and 

at  one  time  the  president  of  the  W.  C.  T.  U. : — 

I  greatly  admired  and  loved  Mr.  Lawrence,  and  always  found  in 
him  a  willingness  to  help  in  any  project  which  he  felt  was  for  the 
glory  of  God.  Such  a  soul  as  his  could  only  rest  in  the  divine  love, 
and  that  he  is  with  God  must  be  such  a  comfort  to  you. 

From  Mrs.  Manny,  also  an  active  member  of  the  W.  C. 

T.  U.:— 

How  can  I  express  to  you  my  deep  sympathy  in  the  sudden  re- 
moval of  your  dear  son?  Not  many  mothers  are  blessed  with  such 
a  son,  and  I  am  sure  few  mothers  have  been  more  fully  appreciated 
and  loved.  I  shall  never  forget  his  sermon  about  mothers,  and  I  felt 
that  he  was  speaking  from  personal  experience.'  It  was  really  a 
beautiful  public  tribute  to  his  own  mother.  When  I  read  in  The 
American  the  notice  of  his  departure,  the  tears  would  come,  and 
then  came  the  thought  of  you,  his  sister,  and  his  affianced,  the  church 
and  the  world.  What  a  bereavement !  But  for  him,  with  his  culture, 
his  spirituality,  his  consecration,  how  he  will  enjoy  heaven ! 

On  Jan.  12th,  the  Anniversary  of  the  Railroad  Branch 
of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  was  held  in  a  Methodist  church.  The 
address  was  given  by  Edward,  "who  spoke  of  the  associa- 
tion as  offering  young  men  three  things — a  friend,  a  pur- 
pose, and  a  model.'' 

Baltimore,  Jan.  16th,  1890. 

My  Dear  Birthday  Sister:— 

What  a  great  blessing  it  was  to  me  as  a 
boy  that  you  came  into  the  world  as  you  did !  I  had  an  older  sister, 
but  she  has  joined  the  majority,  and  we  two  are  left  together,  two 
children  and  the  father  there,  and  two  children  and  the  mother 
here.  You  are  much  richer  than  I, — a  husband,  a  son,  a  home,  all 
your  own.  And  none  of  these  have  I.  The  ideal  wife,  how  would  I 
welcome  her  as  an  ideal  gift ! 

I  forget  just  how  old  we  are.  Is  it  thirty-five  and  forty-two,  or 
thirty-six  and  forty-three?  It  matters  very  little.  We  will  grow 
younger  every  year  if  you  please,  and  better  if  the  Lord  will.  Nch 
if  about  that,  however.  He  would  have  us  grow  better  and  more 
useful  too.  May  each  year  bring  us  nearer  to  God  and  to  each 
other ! 

We  need  not  be  blind  to  certain  unpleasant  things,  but  we  should 
often  be  dumb.  Speech  magnifies,  sometimes  distorts.  We  cannot 
expect  comprehension  by  others,  but  will  be  grateful  for  what  of  it 
comes  and  not  surprised  when  it  fails.  Appreciation  is  pleasant,  but 
not  necessary.  On  the  whole,  I  get  far  more  of  it  than  I  deserve.  I 
desire  to  work  as  unto  God,  not  as  unto  men.  There  can  be  nothing 
more  disappointing  and  bitter  than  the  thirst  for  human  praise. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


GROWTH  OF  THE  BALTIMORE  WORK. 

It  is  by  our  justice  to  our  employes,  by  our  example  to  our  friends, 
by  our  kindness  to  our  neighbors,  by  our  zeal  in  fulfilment  of  citizen 
duties,  by  our  tender  personal  care  of  those  who  have  strayed,  that 
we  can  root  out  the  evils  around  us. — Octavia  Hill, 

It  was  a  veiy  busy  life  that  followed  Edward's  installa- 
tion. On  Sunday,  he  preached  morning  and  evening, 
was  present  a  part  of  the  time  at  the  Sunday  School,  and 
attended  the  C.  E.  Society,  which  preceded  his  evening  ser- 
vice. Monday  afternoon,  he  met  a  class  he  had  formed  of 
Little  Pilgrims,  taking  them  through  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
which  had  been  the  joy  of  his  childhood.  He  often 
preached  a  short  sermon  tO'  the  children  Sunday  morning, 
and  also  looked  out  for  their  bodily  improvement,  arrang- 
ing gymnastics  for  them  on  Thursday  afternoon.  On  Mon- 
day evening,  he  and  his  mother  frequently  held  receptions 
in  Mrs.  Ferguson's  pleasant  parlors,  which  were  social 
times,  often  enlivened  by  music.  Tuesday  evening,  there 
were  singing  classes  for  beginners  and  also  for  advanced 
singers,  in  which  the  pastor  took  special  interest.  Wednes- 
day was  the  regular  prayer  meeting,  after  which  came  his 
Bible  class. 

At  the  Misses  Tyson's  boarding  house,  which  was  quite 
near  Mrs.  Ferguson's,  Edward  and  his  mother  met  a  very 
pleasant  company,  most  of  them  Johns  Hopkins  students. 
Among  these  were  Professor  Cutler  and  his  wife  from 
Clark  University,  Worcester,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Metcalf. 

Mrs.  Metcalf  writes : — 

We  want  to  tell  you  how  glad  we  are  to  have  been  in  Baltimore 
while  your  son  was  there,  not  only  on  Sundays,  but  three  times  a 
day  all  the  week  round  the  table.    He  did  my  soul  good  and  showed 


34^   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

his  friendship  that  first  afternoon,  when  every  one  else  seemed  so 
formal  and  preoccupied.  As  soon  as  we  entered  the  room  he  came 
to  meet  us  and  sat  down  with  us.  The  heart  grows  warm  at  such  a 
welcome.  And  we  have  always  felt  that  he  was  our  friend ;  but  now 
lie  will  welcome  us  to  the  new  country  when  we  go  there. 

One  should  have  seen  Mr.  Lawrence  among  his  "Little  Pilgrims," 
so  childlike  and  sympathetic,  yet  wise,  inducing  them  to  follow  their 
tetter  impulses.  Formal  and  insincere  people  must  have  felt  quite 
out  of  place  in  meeting  his  clear  eyes  and  straightforward  greeting. 

How  courteous  and  beautiful  were  his  ways  with  his  "little 
mother!"    No  one  could  forget  that. 

A  younger  brother  of  Mr.  Metcalf's  was  also  one  of  the 
boarders,  who  is  now  a  professor  in  the  Woman's  College 
in  Baltimore  and  president  of  the  Lawrence  Memorial  As- 
sociation, in  which  he  is  at  the  same  time  an  efficient 
worker. 

Edward  had  a  very  social  people.  As  Congregationalism 
was  almost  an  unknown  quantity  in  that  region,  the  over- 
heard reply  of  a  Baltimorean  to  a  stranger  on  Eutaw  St. 
"What  church  is  that?"  "The First Conversa,tional  Church," 
was  accepted  as  a  not  inappropriate  reply.  The  pastor 
and  his  mother  had  frequent  intercourse  with  the  deacons 
and  their  families — the  Hendersons,  Xunns  and  Hough- 
tons.  As  the  Houghtons  lived  close  by  the  church,  it  was 
an  easy  thing  for  the  mother  to  run  in  there  to  tea  on  her 
way  to  the  weekly  prayer-meeting  and  for  her  son  to  follow 
lier.  One  of  the  deacons  whom  they  saw  most  frequently 
was  dear  Deacon  Cressy,  the  church  missionary,  who 
was  loved  by  every  one  who  knew  him,  within  and  without 
the  church.  He  was  a  weekly  guest  at  the  tea-table  of 
Deacon  Nunn,  where  they  often  met  him.  Good  Deacon 
Cressy  was  Edward's  unfailing  reliance,  always  entering 
into  all  his  plans,  and  although  nearly  blind,  carefully 
threading  his  way  through  the  streets  and  carrying  com- 
fort and  cheer  all  over  the  parish  and  elsewhere. 

Extracts  from  his  letter  to  me  are  here  given: — 

My  heart  is  so  full  in  the  removal  of  your  dear  son,  my  beloved 
pastor,  that  my  pen  fails  in  expressing  its  deep  emotions.  I  know 
that  only  Christ  can  comfort  a  heart  wounded  like  yours,  in  the  loss 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


347 


of  a  son  so  devoted  to  his  mother,  and  so  filled  with  the  love  of 
Christ,  going  about  doing  good,  and  like  his  Master,  lifting  up  the 
fallen,  speaking  words  of  comfort  to  the  afflicted,  leading  blind  minds 
and  hard  hearts  into  the  light  of  God's  truth  and  love,  and  preaching 
the  Gospel  to  the  poor. 

His  Christ-like  spirit  and  tenderness  were  manifested,  not  only  in 
the  pulpit  but  in  his  pastoral  visits  among  all  classes,  rich  and  poor, 
wise  or  ignorant.  His  very  countenance  expressed  it.  He  especially 
endeared  himself  to  the  little  children,  with  whom  he  was  always  a 
favorite.  The  Christian  Endeavor,  and  the  Junior  Society,  the 
Little  Pilgrims,  the  Charitable  Organization  Society,  the  Mission 
and  the  Tenement  Work, — in  all  these  and  other  ways,  by  which 
he  could  win  souls,  he  was  always  active,  whatever  self-denial  it 
might  cost  him.  His  zeal  was  untiring  to  the  last.  On  Wednesday 
evening,  Nov.  ist,  the  Preparatory  lecture  was  on  the  17th  chapter  of 
John.  His  earnestness,  the  brightness  of  his  countenance  in  present- 
ing the  truths  of  that  chapter,  were  so  manifest  that  it  was  spoken  of 
by  many  in  the  congregation. 

In  my  own  especial  work  he  always  took  the  most  hearty  interest, 
and  it  has  been  a  comfort  to  me  to  feel  that  it  was  a  help  to  him,  as 
he  frequently  told  me  that  it  lightened  his  labors  and  aided  him  in 
various  ways,  giving  him  access  to  many  whom  he  would  not  other- 
wise have  reached. 

Edward  naturally  took  much  interest  in  the  Johns  Hop- 
kins University.  And  he  had  pleasant  intercourse  with 
those  students  who  attended  his  church,  some  of  whom 
joined  the  C.  E.  Society,  and  in  other  ways  were  helpers  in 
his  work.  Portions  of  letters  from  two  or  three  will  show 
their  appreciation  of  him^ 

One  of  them  writes: — 

I  first  saw  Dr.  Lawrence  soon  after  I  entered  Johns  Hopkins  Uni- 
versity. It  was  at  a  special  meeting  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  at  Levering 
Hall,  in  the  interest  of  missions  and  charities.  This  meeting  led  me 
to  join  the  Charity  Organization  Society.  At  the  visitors'  meetings 
of  this  society.  Dr.  Lawrence  was  one  of  the  most  regular  attendants, 
and  one  whose  counsel  was  most  helpful  in  solving  the  difficult  prob- 
lems which  constantly  arose. 

Though  I  am  not  a  Congregationalist,  I  soon  found  that  Dr.  Law- 
rence, more  than  any  other  of  the  clergy  of  Baltimore,  stood  for  the 
relationship  between  the  Church  of  Christ  and  social  reform. 

It  was  this  fact  more  than  any  other  that  led  me  to  choose  his 
church  as  my  church  home,  but  the  more  I  heard  from  Dr.  Law- 
rence and  the  more  I  saw  of  his  work  and  ways  the  more  evident  it 
became  that  I  had  chosen  well.  The  breadth  of  his  knowledge  and 
sympathy,  and  the  strength  and  beauty  of  his  character  were  grow- 
ing sources  of  inspiration. 


348   REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Another  of  these  students  writes: — 

I  came  to  Baltimore  a  stranger,  bringing  an  introduction  from  one 
who  had  known  Mr.  Lawrence  in  former  years.  I  well  remember 
his  hearty  greeting,  the  firm  handshake,  the  rather  searching  look,  as 
if  he  would  see  what  manner  of  man  I  was.  After  a  few  moments 
of  pleasant  talk,  he  told  me  it  was  the  evening  of  the  church  prayer- 
meeting,  and  asked  me  to  excuse  him  while  he  looked  over  his  sub- 
ject. I  arose  to  go.  but  he  urged  me  to  stay  and  go  with  him  to  the 
service.  He  handed  me  a  recent  number  of  the  Review  of  Re- 
vicii's  to  read  while  he  turned  to  his  study  table.  I  opened  the 
periodical,  but  instead  of  reading  I  was  guilty  of  studying  his  looks, 
his  manner,  his  quick  glances  at  the  pages  before  him  as  he  consulted 
passages  of  Scripture.  After  perhaps  twenty  minutes,  he  turned 
abruptly  and  asked  me  what  I  had  been  reading.  I  owned  up  and 
said.  "Nothing.  Mr.  Lawrence,  I  have  been  watching  you  at  your 
work."  He  answered  with  a  smile.  "Ah,  I  see  you  have  a  way  of 
studying  men."  He  showed  me  his  library,  pointing  out  some  of  his 
most  valued  books,  and  speaking  almost  affectionately  of  his  picture 
of  the  Sistine  Madonna. 

The  church  service  to  which  we  went  he  conducted  in  a  manner  I 
found  to  be  characteristic  of  the  man.  A  brisk,  rapid  summary  of 
the  points  of  the  Scripture  read,  a  gathering  and  grouping  of  the  in- 
cidents of  the  text,  a  clear,  forcible  exposition  of  the  meaning  that 
rendered  even  complex  and  difficult  passages  easy  of  comprehension. 

The  acquaintance  thus  begun  only  ended  with  his  life.  I  occasion- 
ally asked  his  co-operation  in  Christian  Endeavor  work :  and  in  mat- 
ters that  perplexed,  in  the  solution  of  difficult  problems,  in  deciding 
questions  of  ways  and  means.  I  was  often  struck  with  the  rapidity 
and  wisdom  of  his  conclusions. 

Mr.  Lawrence  was  sagacious  to  a  remarkable  degree  in  handling 
men.  One  gentleman  said  to  me: — "Not  one  man  in  five  hundred  is 
his  equal  as  an  organizer."  I  found  this  to  be  true.  He  sized  up  men 
and  saw  the  place  they  would  fill,  the  kind  of  work  to  which  they 
were  best  adapted,  with  an  accuracy  that  amounted  to  intuition.  This 
faculty  would  have  made  him  a  forceful  leader  in  any  calling,  wheth- 
er in  professional  life,  in  business  enterprises,  or  in  statecraft.  I 
think  he  recognized  his  power  in  this  direction ;  and.  although  fitted 
bj'  natural  ability  and  training  for  the  work  of  the  scholar,  the  think- 
er and  writer,  he  would  say:  "My  work  is  among  men." 

It  often  happens  that  men  of  this  type  are  reserved  and  imap- 
proachable.  Mr.  Lawrence  was  nothing  of  this.  With  the  genius  of 
the  scholar  was  combined  a  rare  humility ;  with  a  strong,  forceful 
nature  and  an  uncompromising  devotion  to  truth,  forgiving  sym- 
pathy and  patience  for  those  who  failed  to  reach  his  standard :  with 
the  ripe  experience  and  judgment  of  a  man  who  knew  the  world, 
the  ability  to  come  down  to  the  level  of  those  who  lived  in  lowly 
ways.  He  imitated  the  Master  who  mingled  with  publicans  and  sin- 
ners, and  labored  in  his  name  to  help  the  erring  and  bring  them  to 
better  ways.  It  was  this  spirit  of  aggressive  Christianity.  I  think, 
that  sometimes  brought  upon  him  the  criticism  even  of  Christian 
people.  There  are  those  who  shrink  from  having  their  own  or  their 
pastor's  hands  soiled  by  contact  with  the  lowly. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


349 


The  longer  I  knew  Mr.  Lawrence,  the  more  did  I  admire  the 
cheerful  disposition  which  characterized  him.  He  always  had  a 
kind  word  for  those  who  criticized  him.  I  never  heard  him  say  an 
unkind  word  in  regard  to  anyone,  though  his  sensitive  nature  must 
often  have  been  wounded  by  the  careless  remarks  of  others. 

Edward  wrote  me  of  his  pleasure  in  finding  among  the 
Johns  Hopkins  students  who  attended  his  church  a  Mr.  Jo- 
seph Willard,  whose  grandfather  and  subsequently  his 
father  were  deacons  in  the  church  at  Orford,  N.  H.,  where 
Edward's  father  was  for  a  few  years  the  pastor.  Mr.  Willard 
was  so  active  in  the  work  of  the  church  that  my  son  some- 
times playfully  spoke  of  him  as  his  deacon.  A  letter  from 
Mr.  Willard,  now  a  professor  in  State  College,  Pennsylva- 
nia, is  here  given: — 

I  go  immediately  back  in  thought  to  Mr.  Lawrence's  abounding 
life.  Going  down  Madison  Avenue  one  day,  he  was  telling  me  some 
of  his  plans  and  hopes  for  the  future.  I  said  rather  mechanically,  "It 
is  a  grand  thing  to  live  in  our  time."  I  cannot  forget  how  earnestly 
he  repeated,  "It  is  a  grand  thing  to  live." 

You  probably  know  of  our  skating  down  the  Chesapeake,  of  our 
walks  out  into  the  country,  and  down  into  the  more  congested  sec- 
tions of  Baltimore.  At  these  times,  our  conversation  often  turned  on 
the  immediate  need  of  tenement  work,  the  University  Y.  M.  C.  A., 
the  Christian  Endeavor  Society,  on  the  Higher  Criticism,  or  the 
phases  of  life  presented  by  the  street.  Once,  as  we  were  comparing 
the  interpretations  given  to  nature  by  several  of  the  poets,  near 
Gwinn's  Falls,  he  remarked,  "It  makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world 
what  kind  of  a  heart  one  brings  to  nature." 

The  influence  he  had  on  men  often  startled  me.  President  Oilman 
once  told  me  that  at  that  time  more  Hopkins  students  were  attending 
the  Congregational  Church  than  any  other. 

His  extreme  unselfishness  need  only  be  mentioned,  his  tenement 
work  alone  being  enough  to  prove  that,  were  it  not  an  every  day 
practice  of  his  life. 

His  sense  of  having  a  mission  and  the  energy  and  invincible  deter- 
mination in  carrying  it  out  was  always  apparent ;  indeed,  he  once  told 
me,  if  the  way  ever  opened,  he  would  like  to  locate  on  a  distinctly 
mission  field. 

As  a  final  characteristic  I  should  say  /personal  devotion  to  Christ. 
This  seemed  to  be  the  ruling  passion  of  his  life.  Almost  every  Wed- 
nesday evening,  he  would  give  out  to  be  sung  in  the  prayer-meeting, 
"For  me  to  live  is  Christ." 

In  reply  to  a  letter  from  Mr.  Willard,  Dr.  F.  E.  Clark, 
president  of  the  Christian  Endeavor  Society  writes:  "I 
only  wish  we  had  more  space  in  our  paper  for  the  eulogy 


350   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


his  noble  life  deserves.  I  felt  a  sense  of  personal  loss  when 
I  heard  of  his  death,  though  I  knew  him  but  slightly ;  I  am 
sure  that  his  life  will  live  in  the  lives  of  a  multitude  of 
of  others." 

As  inquiry  is  often  made  as  to  Edward's  labors  in  the  de- 
partment of  Socialism,  it  may  be  well  to  give  a  summary 
of  his  efforts  in  that  line. 

Even  during  his  first  year  in  the  city,  in  February,  1890, 
a  class  in  Social  Science  was  formed  to  study  the  "Problems 
of  the  Modern  City."  This  class  met  in  the  church  parlors 
on  Thursday  evening.  The  subject  first  discussed  was  the 
"Evolution  of  the  Modern  Industrial  City."  Then  followed 
discussions  on  "Socialism,"  "Immigration,''  "Labor  Or- 
ganizations,'' "Labor  Problems.''  Some  of  them  were  con- 
tinued over  a  second  evening.  On  March  23d,  an  essay 
on  "Poverty"  was  given  by  'Sir.  William  Howe  Tolman  of 
Johns  Hopkins,  now  associated  with  Dr.  Josiah  Strong  in 
the  League  for  Social  Service — a  cause  into  which  Edward 
would  have  entered  with  all  his  heart.  On  March  30th,  Mr. 
Sidney  Sherwood  gave  a  public  lecture  on  "Land  and 
Taxation,''  followed  by  discussion,  "The  Single  Tax" 
question  was  also  discussed. 

On  February  15th,  1891,  Edward  preached  a  sermon  on 
Christian  Socialism,  and  on  March  8th,  and  April  8th  and 
I2th,  Socialism  was  discussed  by  the  mission  circle  of  the 
Christian  Endeavor  Society.  On  March  8th,  1892,  Rev. 
\V.  D.  P.  Bliss  gave  an  address  on  Christian  Socialism. 
On  i\Iarch  29th,  Sir.  Riis  delivered  an  illustrated  lecture 
on  "How  the  Other  Half  Lives,''  for  the  benefit  of  Tenement 
House  Reform.  On  April  3d,  1892,  there  was  a  service  in 
the  church  in  the  interests  of  out-door  relief  in  Baltimore. 
On  October  30th,  1892,  the  evening  sermon  was  from  the 
text,  "Am  I  my  brothers  keeper?''  and  was  illustrated  by 
photographs  Edward  had  taken,  showing  "How  the  other 
half  lives." 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


From  the  sermon  on  Christian  SociaHsm,  in  February, 
1891,  extracts  are  given  from  the  printed  report  in  the  Bal- 
timore Sun. 

The  best  definition  of  socialism  will  begin  by  showing  what  it  is 
not.  It  is  not  free  love  and  the  abolition  of  the  family.  It  is  not 
communism,  anarchism  nor  "dynamitism."  It  is  not  the  distribution 
of  all  property  among  all  persons,  share  and  share  alike,  so  that  all 
may  be  equally  rich,  and  a  distribution  frequently  repeated,  so  as  to 
keep  them  so. 

Christianity,  in  reference  to  socialism,  is  a  coming  and  growing 
kingdom,  of  which  Christ  is  the  head,  and  God's  righteousness  of 
love  the  substance  and  code.  Fatherhood  and  brotherhood  are  its 
main  principles.  It  is  individualistic,  because  it  begins  its  work  with 
the  individual  and  insists  on  the  absolute,  infinite  value  of  each  hu- 
man being.  It  is  socialistic,  because  it  forms  men  into  a  community, 
into  a  body  or  organism  where  the  whole  is  to  exist  for  the  sake  of 
each  of  its  members  and  each  of  the  members  is  to  exist  for  the  sake 
of  every  other  and  of  the  whole.  This  is  the  kingdom  of  God.  Thus 
Christianity  is  individualistic  socialism,  contradictory  as  those  terms 
appear.  Christian  socialism  is  the  application  of  these  principles  of 
the  kingdom  of  God  to  the  purely  economic  movement  known  as 
socialism.  It  adds  the  impulse  of  the  heart  to  the  impulse  of  the 
stomach,  an  enthusiasm  for  humanity  to  self-interest,  the  love  of  God 
to  the  law  of  social  evolution,  which  is  his  will. 

Soon  after  the  deHvery  of  this  sermon  Edward  received 
the  following  letter  from  a  Nationalist: — 

You  will  pardon  my  writing  on  the  subject  of  your  sermon  deliv- 
ered yesterday  on  Christian  Socialism.  The  brief  mention  in  the 
Sun  was  read  with  earnest  avidity  by  all  practical  Christians  and 
particularly  attentively  by  the  Nationalists  of  Baltimore.  "Come 
over  into  Macedonia  and  help  us."  The  time  is  ripe.  Out  of  the 
theorizing  of  the  centuries  has  evolved  a  perfectly  practical  method, 
and  under  existing  laws  (civil)  to  bring  man  to  love  God  and  his 
neighbor  as  himself;  under  Nationalism,  pure  and  simple.  The  Na- 
tionalist Club,  No.  I,  of  Baltimore,  is  composed  of  gentlemen  and 
ladies,  all  of  whom  are  earnest  workers  in  the  cause  of  right.  I  en- 
close a  copy  of  our  address,  which  upon  perusal  you  will  find  in  per- 
fect accord  with  your  sermon,  and  which  defines  very  clearly  the 
means  to  bring  about  the  result  that  is  so  constantly  theorized  on, 
but  never  practised. 

The  First  Nationalist  Club  meets  every  Tuesday  evening  at  eight 
o'clock,  at  Industrial  Hall,  316  W.  Lombard  St.,  one  door  E.  of 
Eutaw,  where  such  men  as  G.  Lloyd  Rogers,  Joseph  Knell,  Geo.  R. 
Gaither,  Jr.,  Ira  Dean,  etc.,  will  greet  you  and  bid  you  welcome.  If 
you  have  not  given  the  study  of  Nationalism  any  thought,  (although 
from  the  magnificence  of  your  sermon  one  would  suppose  you  a  fin- 
ished Nationalist)  I  might  state  that  the  names  of  Edward  Everett 
Hale,  Gronlund,  Huntington,  Austin,  Willard,  Bellamy,  Higginson, 
and  scores  of  others  famous  as  men  and  advanced  thinkers  are  our 


352   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


leaders.  We  hope  to  have  you  call  to-morrow  and  each  succeeding 
Tuesday,  and  help  us  on  in  our  practical  work. 

Very  respectfully, 

Geo.  W.  Knell. 

Edward  accepted  the  invitation  and  attended  a  National- 
ist meeting,  although  he  slipped  in  as  a  private  citizen. 
Being  moved,  however,  to  make  some  remarks  which  led 
to  the  inquiry  who  he  was,  he  gave  them  his  name  and  was 
most  cordially  welcomed. 

Rev.  Horace  G.  Hoadley  of  Waterbury,  Conn.,  a  Johns 
Hopkins  student,  was  an  active  member  of  the  class  in  the 
Congregational  church  for  the  discussion  of  practical  ques- 
tions. On  leaving  Baltitnore,  he  wrote  my  son,  March, 
1891  :— 

"Returning  to  dear  old  Yale,  and  thinking  of  the  spirit- 
ual needs  of  the  students,  I  have  wished  that  you  were  col- 
lege pastor  here,  as  being  remarkably  fitted  for  such  a  po- 
sition.'' 

Extracts  are  given  from  a  letter  Mr.  Hoadley  wrote  me 

in  the  spring  of  1894: — 

When  I  heard  of  your  son's  death  I  had  to  dismiss  from  my  cal- 
culation one  of  the  foremost  personal  forces  for  righteousness  upon 
which  I  had  counted  in  looking  toward  the  bettering  of  the  world.  It 
■seems  to  me  that  one  of  the  most  remarkable  things  about  him  was 
the  comprehensiveness  of  his  mind  and  of  his  character.  Evangelists 
are  liable  to  either  depreciate  the  importance  of  foreign  missions,  or 
to  be  too  limited  in  their  personality  to  be  much  interested  in  both 
kinds  of  work.  Your  son  was  an  enthusiastic  promoter  of  both,  not 
less  intensely  earnest  in  either  field  than  are  the  specialists.  In 
evangelistic  services  he  was  master  of  the  occasion.  He  eagerly  dis- 
cussed with  me  the  question  of  the  true  relation  of  the  government 
to  the  businesses  in  which  men  are  engaged.  He  set  the  people  of 
his  church  to  work  on  such  questions.  The  winter  I  was  there  he 
was  carrying  out  a  previously  arranged!  plan  for  monthly  discussions 
of  these  and  other  subjects  by  the  people  themselves.  He  asked  me 
to  map  out  the  subject  of  socialism  so  as  to  fill  two  evenings,  assign- 
ing different  phases  of  it,  long  in  advance,  to  different  persons  that 
they  might  make  thorough  preparation.  Which  plans  were  carried 
out.  He  also  presented  these  social  subjects  fearlessly  from  the 
pulpit.  He  was  a  powerful  orator,  fluent,  illustrative,  cogent  in  ar- 
gument, appealing  to  the  popular  mind  as  well  as  to  intelligent  and 
thoughtful  hearers,  not  bound  to  manuscript,  able  to  make  free,  im- 
mediate use  of  his  material,  and  so  to  throw  his  whole  personality 
into  his  words.    How  vivid  and  powerful  were  those  sermons  which 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


353 


he  gave  us  on  Old  Testament  characters !  Their  figures  stood  out  as 
if  they  were  alive.  And  he  could  lay  before  us  long  periods  of  his- 
tory in  a  single  discourse  in  a  most  engaging  manner.  At  the 
same  time  he  was  a  very  capable  organizer  of  the  efforts  of  his 
people.  He  was  very  prompt  and  despatched  business  rapidly.  As 
soon  as  it  became  desirable  for  him  to  call  upon  a  university  student 
at  his  room,  there  he  appeared.  Go,  as  I  did  once,  to  a  meeting  of 
the  Charity  Organization  Society  visitors,  and  there  you  would  find 
him  listening  to  the  details,  and  making  practical  suggestions  for  the 
treatment  of  the  cases  named. 

Mr.  Lawrence  was  by  far  the  best  minister  that  I  ever  knew.  Best 
of  all,  he  was  a  genuine  rnan  with  whom  there  was  satisfaction  in 
talking  of  a  matter  which  concerned  one  deeply.  I  don't  know  where 
we  shall  find  such  another  man.  His  life  of  the  past  is  an  inspiration 
to  us. 

On  March  12th,  1890,  at  the  Presbyterian  Sabbath 
School  Institute,  Edward  gave  an  address  on  "The  Teach- 
er's Ideal." 

Early  in  March  his  mother  left  for  the  north,  making 
visits  on  her  way.  He  writes  to  her:  "I  read  the  account  of 
your  journeyings  to  Miss  Leftwich,  who  was  greatly 
amused.  Providence  befriended  you  as  usual.  I  had  a 
pleasant  visit  at  Lakewood.  You  cannot  keep  your  'theo- 
logical novel'  a  secret;  Mrs.  Cate  had  seen  a  notice  of  it." 

Referring  to  the  dreadful  railroad  accident  by  which 
Miss  Brigham  was  suddenly  killed: — "Miss  Brigham 
was  transferred  to  higher  fields  of  labor, — first  from 
Brooklyn  to  Mt.  Holyoke  College,  then  to  heaven ;  why  is 
the  one  more  trying  to  the  faith  than  the  other?  The  way 
was  strange,  but  what  matters  it  how?  She  was  wanted 
there  even  more  than  here." 

Baltimore,  March  28th. 
Just  a  line  for  you  in  Sing  Sing.    I  should  like  to  be  there  with 
you.    I  am  glad  you  were  pleased  with  Mr.  McWilliams.  I  liked  him 
at  once,  and  I  think  all  appreciate  him. 

April  9th,  1890. 

A  great  gathering  last  night  in  the  hall  where  we  heard  the  ora- 
torio. I  think  I  never  spoke  to  so  many  people  at  once — about  fifteen 
hundred.  My  subject  was — The  Debt  and  Duty  of  the  City  to  the 
Country. 

Baltimore,  May  ist. 
Yes,  I  am  alive  after  the  hailstorm.    Four  panes  were  broken  in 
my  study,  otherwise  no  harm  done  in  the  church.    Most  of  the 
windows  were  protected  by  netting,  or  the  damage  would  have  been 


354   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


great.  I  never  saw  anything  like  it.  I  was  just  going  out  to  address 
the  Baptist  Sunday  School  Anniversary,  but  waited  till  the  storm  was 
over. 

May  13th. 

I  am  very  busy,  but  must  take  time  to  tell  you  about  the  twenty- 
fifth  anniversary  of  our  church.  I  read  letters  from  aJl  the  pastors, 
and  then  spoke  of  my  one  year.  Professor  Chickering  from  Wash- 
ington was  here  and  look  part  in  the  services.  In  the  evening,  Mr. 
Stockbridge  gave  us  a  very  good  history  of  the  church,  and  Mr. 
Henderson  a  fine  poem. 

My  arrangements  for  a  supper  on  Monday  in  the  church  rooms,  the 
ladies  questioned  a  little.  They  had  never  had  a  supper  there,  and 
thought  that  not  more  than  fifty  would  be  present.  But  when  I  called 
for  names,  more  than  a  hundred  were  reported.  They  then  took  it 
up  with  zeal,  and  prepared  supper  for  a  hundred  and  twenty-five. 
I  had  the  tables  arranged  in  that  large  room  upstairs  for  a  hundred 
and  forty.  There  were  only  three  invited  guests,  except  the  Second 
Church.  Result:  We  gave  supper  to  two  hundred  and  had  frag- 
ments left.  Then  we  adjourned  to  the  large  room  down /  stairs  and 
from  nine  till  eleven  had  a  succession  of  some  of  the  best  speeches  I 
ever  heard  from  a  general  company.  Every  department  of  the 
church  was  represented  and  the  introductions  fell  on  me.  All  de- 
clared it  a  perfect  success. 

To-morrow  the  Conference  of  Charities  and  Corrections  comes  for 
a  week,  so  I  am  full. 

May  22d,  1890. 

I  am  very  tired  after  all  the  meetings,  and  j^ery  busy  and  very 
stupid.  You  will  find  a  letter  concerning  the  Conference  in  next 
week's  Congr,egationalist. 

From  this  letter  several  passages  are  given: — 

Baltimore  applied  for  the  Conference  two  years  ago  in  vain,  and 
then  last  year  Mr.  John  Glenn,  that  incarnation  of  the  charity  move- 
ment, to  whom  more  than  any  other  man  the  success  of  the  Confer- 
ence is  due,  went  across  the  continent  to  San  Francisco,  armed  with 
so  formidable  a  document  of  invitation  that  the  Conference  sur- 
rendered at  sight,  despite  the  urgency  of  Denver  and  Indianapolis. 
Twenty-six  states,  the  district  of  Columbia  and  England  are  repre- 
sented. But  the  work  it  represents  is  much  more  remarkable  than 
the  territory.  .  .  The  variety,  however,  has  by  no  means  led  to 
confusion.  The  predominant  feeling  has  been  that  of  the  absolute 
oneness  of  all  phases  of  the  work,  in  their  underlying  principles,  in 
their  tendencies,  their  needs  and  their  general  interdependence. 
Every  topic  that  has  been  taken  up  has  shed  light  upon,  and  directly 
opened  into,  every  other. 

In  all  the  variety  of  subject,  of  treatment  and  of  detail,  there  was 
a  surprising  agreement,  all  the  more  surprising  because  unsought, 
sometimes  even  unconscious,  both  in  the  general  principles  of  work 
and  the  improvement  in  method  made  and  still  sought.  The  central 
point  of  this  agreement,  as  exhibited  by  these  practical  experts  and 
hard-headed  specialists  in  every  one  of  their  various  branches,  can 
best  be  summed  up  by  saying  that,  with  all  the  most  intelligent,  in- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


355 


.dependent  and  advanced  among  them,  the  institution  grows  less  and 

less,  the  individual  more  and  more,    r'orce  and  fear  grow  less  and 

less,  faith  and  love  more  and  more.    .  . 

The  absolute  exclusion  of  politics  from  charities;  the  organization 

■of  all  this  work  under  charge  of  non-partisan  state  boards,  with  the 
co-operation  of  voluntary  associated  charities ;  the  cessation  of  official 
out-door  relief;  the  saving  care  of  neglected  children;  the  training 
of  convicts  for  reformation  and  usefulness,  the  freedom  of  the  insane 
frotn  asylums  as  well  as  in  asylums ;  larger  employment  of  trained 
women  in  hospitals,  asylums  and  prisons;  especially  to  have  charge 
of  women  and  children  in  police  stations,  etc. ;  the  ample  equipment 
of  all  institutions  with  land  at  the  rate  of  one  acre  for  each  inmate; 
industrial  training  for  all ;  the  aid  of  the  church  and  the  clergy,  espe- 
cially on  Prison  Sunday,  Hospital  Sunday,  Children's  Sunday — all 
these  were  among  the  definite  results  sought  and  recommended  by 
the  Conference. 

The  height  of  the  meeting  was  reached  on  Wednesday  morning, 
when  the  degree  of  hope  to  be  cherished  in  treating  the  insane  and 
idiots  was  being  discussed.  From  the  most  skilled  specialists  in  this 
department  came  protests  against  the  thought  that  any  case  was 
hopeless. 

Then  came  from  some  one  the  assertion  of  the  necessity,  for  best 
work,  of  the  belief  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  from  another 
the  belief  in  free  will.  Throughout  the  entire  Conference  no  tinge 
of  materialism  was  to  be  detected.  The  personality  of  man  and  the 
power  of  love  were  treated  as  supreme.  These  practical  workers  and 
scientific  experts  are  inspired  by  a  lofty  ideal,  animated  by  a  divine 
enthusiasm,  incompatible  with  hesitant  agnosticism,  or  gross  ma- 
terialism, in  the  things  of  greatest  concern. 

When  at  the  mass  meeting,  Wednesday  evening,  the  Conference 
was  fitly  closed  with  the  Christian  Endeavor  song,  "God  be  with  you 
till  we  meet  again,"  followed  by  the  benediction,  this  was  but  the  ex- 
pression of  the  fact  that  had  throughout  been  made  plain,  that  the 
whole  was  one  great  work  of  Christian  philanthropy. 

Although  Mr.  Glenn,  of  whom  Edward  writes  as  the 
soul  of  the  C.  O.  S.,  was  totally  blind,  his  inward  vision 
made  up  for  his  outward  limitations.  And  though  a  grad- 
uate of  Harvard  University  and  highly  intellectual,  he  gave 
his  influence,  his  money  and  himself  without  stint  to  the 
work  of  helping  the  poor.  My  son  often  dined  at  his  house, 
thus  securing  opportunities  for  free  conversation  on  mat- 
ters relating  to  the  society.  In  all  this  work,  Edward  was 
thoroughly  practical.  Being  very  desirous  of  an  arrange- 
ment by  which  some  one  properly  trained  should  go  into 
the  families  of  the  poor  and  teach  them  hygienic  cooking, 
he  prepared  an  address  on  the  subject  for  one  of  the  Sisters' 


356  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


meetings,  from  which  address  one  would  infer  that  he  had 
graduated  at  a  cooking  school. 

As  Mr.  Glenn  has  followed  my  son  into  the  other  world, 
who  can  tell  in  what  good  cause  they  may  now  be  working 
together? 

A  few  days  after  Edward's  departure,  I  received  a  note 

dated  Glenn  Building,  November  i8th,  1893,  to  which  was 

attached  his  own  blind  signature,  John  Glenn: — 

My  Dear  Mrs.  Lawrence : — 

If  it  would  be  any  pleasure  to  you,  it  would 
give  me  very  great  pleasure  to  call  upon  you  and  talk  with  you  about 
your  son.  You  know  what  his  loss  is  to  you,  and  I  would  like  to  tell 
you  what  his  loss  is  to  me. 

During  his  call,  which  gave  me  great  satisfaction, — as  an 
illustration  of  Edward's  modesty,  he  told  me  that  one  day, 
in  speaking  to  him  of  a  German  book  he  had  been  reading, 
he  innocently  inquired,  "Do  you  read  German,  Mr.  Law- 
rence?'' to  which  he  simply  replied  in  the  affirmative,  and 
that  afterwards  on  learning  of  his  scholarship  and  wide  at- 
tainments, he  was  much  chagrined. 

The  following  letters  from  him  and  from  Miss  Richmond, 

secretary  of  the  society,  show  their  appreciation  of  Edward. 

Your  son  and  I  were  friends  from  almost  the  first  moment.  His 
sincerity  of  purpose  and  truth  marked  him  for  me  as  a  leader,  and  I 
accorded  that  position  to  him  willingly,  and  whenever  in  my  official 
position  I  gave  him  the  lead  he  filled  the  place  splendidly  and  uncon- 
sciously. One  could  almost  say  of  him  that  he  wist  not  that  his 
face  shone. 

He  was  of  immense  service  to  us,  and  his  impress  rests  visibly  in 
the  lines  of  our  work.  But  it  was  only  after  he  was  gone  that  we 
felt  what  his  work  had  been.  He  had  given  us  so  much  that  we  could 
not  realize  until  afterwards  how  much  he  had  reserved,  and  when- 
ever I  think  of  him  I  can  only  wonder  and  regret  that  I  knew  so 
little  of  the  character  of  which  I  thought  I  had  known  so  much.  I 
shall  long  remember  him  as  an  inspiration. 

John  Glenn. 

From  Miss  Mary  F.  Richmond,  secretary  of  the  Charity 

Organization  Society: — 

My  Dear  Mrs.  Lawrence : — 

It  is  a  striking  illustration  of  the  heartiness 
and  thoroughness  with  which  Dr.  Lawrence  devoted  himself  to  every 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


357 


one  of  the  many  vital  interests  which  occupied  his  time  and  thought, 
that,  though  I  saw  him  very  frequently  during  the  years  of  his  resid- 
ence in  Baltimore,  and  talked  to  him  very  freely  about  our  common 
interests,  yet  the  one  subject  of  Charity  Organization  was  so  absorb- 
ing that  we  seldom  travelled  very  far  from  it,  and  I  was  too  often  in 
danger  of  taking  it  for  granted  that  this  was  his  chief  interest  in 
life,  since  it  happened  to  be  mine.  I  like  to  remember,  however, 
that  he  was  a  many-sided  man,  who  cared  for  the  mountains  and  for 
the  people  in  the  slums,  who  cared  for  good  poetry,  and  cared  also 
for  social  statistics. 

There  were  rumors,  when  the  First  Church  called  him  to  Balti- 
more, that  a  power  for  good  was  coming  among  us,  and  almost  im- 
mediately after  his  arrival  one  of  the  managers  of  our  local  Charity 
Organization  Society  invited  me  to  meet  him  at  lunch.  He  must 
have  inspired  entire  confidence  at  once,  for  I  remember  that  we 
plunged  into  business  and  planned,  at  the  first  meeting,  a  series  of 
conferences  in  different  parts  of  the  city  by  which  we  hoped  to  edu- 
cate some  of  the  church  goers  in  better  charity  methods.  Mr.  Law- 
rence was  soon  elected  a  manager  of  our  society,  became  a  friendly 
visitor  in  the  district  where  he  lived,  and  accepted  the  chairmanship 
of  the  committee  having  these  special  conferences  in  charge.  For 
several  winters  these  meetings  carried  us  into  many  out-of-the-way 
places,  where  I  was  forced  to  recognize  his  wonderful  power  of 
adapting  himself  to  people  whose  point  of  view  must  have  been  very 
different  from  his  own ;  and  his  clear,  logical,  plain  statements  won 
for  us  many  friends  who  had  formerly  regarded  the  new  charity 
with  distrust. 

In  the  Ministerial  Union  many  of  our  Baltimore  clergymen  were 
brought  into  closer  touch  with  social  conditions  through  his  in- 
fluence. As  new  claims  were  made  upon  his  energies,  as  one  good 
cause  after  another  claimed  some  share  of  his  time,  I  began  to  feel 
that  we  must  necessarily  lose  some  of  the  active  help  which  he  had 
given  us  in  such  large  measure  during  the  first  year  or  two;  but  I 
soon  found  that  my  fears  were  groundless,  that  he  never  dropped 
anything  that  he  had  once  undertaken.  This  thoroughness  prevejited 
some  from  appreciating  him ;  if  he  had  been  less  thorough  he  might 
have  done  more  showy  work.  I  sometimes  suspected  that  some  of  his 
own  congregation  failed  to  measure  him  at  his  true  value,  and  on  a 
Sunday  night  when  Dr.  Lawrence  had  given  the  evening  service  to 
an  account  of  relief  work,  and  had  asked  me  to  say  a  few  words 
about  the  particular  branch  of  it  in  which  I  was  most  interested,  I 
took  occasion  to  remind  his  own  people  that  their  pastor  was  taking  a 
position  in  Baltimore  too  seldom  filled  by  members  of  the  ministry, 
that  he  had  become  a  force  on  the  side  of  good  citizenship.  I  tried 
to  show  them  that  work  like  this  reacted  in  the  most  beneficent  way 
■upon  a  minister's  congregation,  and  did  the  church  far  more  lasting 
good  than  a  round  of  pastoral  calls  and  tea  drinkings.  As  we  left 
the  pulpit,  he  laughed,  in  that  genial  way  of  his,  and  said  that  he 
did  not  attempt  to  stop  me,  because  a  woman  would  have  the  last 
word.  The  evening  had  pleased  him  very  much,  because,  in  his  pul- 
pit, side  by  side,  a  Catholic,  a  Hebrew,  a  Swedenborgian,  and  a  Unit- 


358    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


arian  had  told  about  the  relief  work  of  the  various  large  charitable 
societies. 

He  had  a  pithy  way  of  stating  the  truth  so  briefly  and  simply  that  it 
stuck,  and  I  often  find  myself  quoting  him.  It  was  not  as  a  sayer, 
but  as  a  doer  that  I  appreciated  him  most,  however;  he  was  never 
afraid  of  drudgery,  and  his  courage  was  unfailing;  he  could  always 
be  depended  upon  to  do  an  unpopular  thing,  if  it  seemed  a  necessary 
thing.  Like  most  large  cities,  we  have  several  self-appointed  "city 
missionaries,"  whose  methods  are  far  from  businesslike.  The  task 
of  investigating  these  and  publicly  reporting  any  irregularities  was 
not  an  agreeable  one  for  a  minister  to  undertake,  but  he  rightly  said 
that  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  should  not  hesitate  to  call  those  to  ac- 
count whose  unbusinesslike  methods  cast  a  reproach  upon  religion. 

Last  September,  when  we  realized  that  there  was  going  to  be 
great  suffering  among  the  poor  during  the  winter,  and  the  question 
of  dealing  with  it  came  up  at  the  manager's  meeting  of  The  Charity 
Organization  Society,  he  was  the  first  to  urge  the  need  of  prompt 
action,  and  to  outline  the  plan  which  was  afterwards  carried  out  with 
great  success.  The  Friday  that  he  was  taken  sick  he  was  in  my 
office  to  make  inquiries  about  the  best  hours  for  dispensary  service 
among  the  sick  poor,  with  a  view  to  securing  medicines  and  treat- 
ment for  them  before  they  were  forced  to  give  up  work.  It  seemed 
incredible  that  any  one  who  had  hold  of  life  in  such  a  vital  and 
helpful  way,  whose  interests  in  it  were  so  varied  and  so  absorbing, 
should  be  forced  to  put  it  aside  without  a  moment's  warning.  Every- 
one spoke  of  how  well  prepared  he  was  to  go,  and  of  his  entire 
resignation,  but  I  cannot  think  that  this  was  his  feeling.  I  am  sure 
that  there  was  no  fretfulness  or  childish  rebellion  in  his  mind,  but 
much  genuine  regret.  The  man  cared  too  intensely  for  his  work  to 
throw  it  over  for  any  hope  of  rest  or  personal  reward. 

I  never  saw  such  genuine  and  heartfelt  regret  for  any  human  loss 
as  I  have  seen  among  my  friends  since  his  death.  We  are  appre- 
ciably poorer.  The  good  work  in  the  church  and  the  community  at 
large  goes  on,  but  it  has  received  a  setback  from  his  death  which 
only  time  can  slowly  repair. 

An  editorial  from  the  Charities,  Record,  the  quarterly  or- 
gan of  the  C.  O.  S.  is  here  reported: — 

At  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Charity  Organization  Society,  appro- 
priate resolutions  were  adopted  on  the  death  of  Rev.  Edward  A. 
Lawrence.  D.D.,  but  those  who  had  known  Dr.  Lawrence  felt  how 
inadequate  these  were,  as  any  resolutions  must  have  been,  to  fitly 
acknowledge  the  inspiration  and  help  which  he  had  given  our  work 
and  our  workers. 

Five  years  ago.when  Dr.  Lawrence  had  been  in  Baltimore  only  a 
few  weeks,  he  was  invited  to  meet  several  officers  of  the  Society  at 
an  informal  lunch.  It  was  a  great  pleasure  to  them  to  find  in  the 
newcomer  a  man  so  well-informed  on  the  sociological  side  of  our 
work,  and  so  entirely  in  earnest  on  the  practical  side.  He  began  at 
once  as  a  friendly  visitor,  a  member  of  our  Northwestern  district, 
and  a  manager  of  the  Society,  accepting  the  chairmanship  of  a 
special  committee  on  introducing  charity  organization  ideas  in  the 


OF.  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


359 


church  and  business  community.  In  this  connection  he  did  very 
successful  platform  work,  making  clear  and  logical  statements  of  our 
aims  before  the  Ministerial  Union,  and  at  numberless  meetings  in  the 
remoter  parts  of  the  city.  But  efficient  and  thorough  as  his  ser- 
vice always  was,  Dr.  Lawrence  was  even  more  helpful  in  the  district 
work,  which  required  his  wonderful  patience  and  faculty  for  taking 
pains. 

As  time  went  on,  many  new  claims  were  made  upon  his  energies. 
The  Congregational  Church  undertook,  under  his  direction,  an  im- 
portant educational  work  in  the  Parkin  street  tenements,  and  he  had 
become  a  leader  of  thought  amongst  his  clerical  brethren — an 
authority  on  missions  and  on  the  systematic  study  of  the  Scriptures. 
But,  through  it  all,  he  never  dropped  anything  that  he  had  once  un- 
dertaken, and  continued  to  give  our  own  work  such  devoted  service 
that  we  were  too  often  tempted  to  think  that  charity  organization  was 
the  chief  interest  of  his  life.  Dr.  Lawrence's  courage  was  unfailing. 
He  never  hesitated  to  do  an  unpopular  thing,  if  it  seemed  the  neces- 
sary and  right  thing.  At  our  request,  he  made  investigations  of  the 
work  of  self-appointed  and  self-styled  "city  missionaries,"  whose  ir- 
responsible methods  of  relief  work  were  found  to  be  neither  good 
business  nor  good  charity.  After  the  most  careful  researches,  he 
wrote  the  report  which  appeared  as  an  appendix  to  our  last  Annual. 
The  task  was  not  an  agreeable  one  for  a  minister,  but  he  rightly  said 
that  a  minister  should  not  hesitate  to  call  those  to  strict  account 
whose  unbusinesslike  methods  cast  a  reproach  upon  religion. 

A  few  hours  before  he  was  stricken  down  he  was  in  our  central 
office  to  make  inquiries  about  the  best  hours  for  dispensary  service 
among  the  sick  poor,  and  left,  expressing  the  hope  that  something 
might  be  done  to  secure  medicines  and  treatment  for  people  before 
they  were  forced  to  leave  work.  ,A  week  later  we  knew  that  the  poor 
and  suffering  had  lost  a  most  thoughtful  friend,  and  we  a  most  in- 
spiring co-worker.  At  the  funeral  services  it  was  said  that  some 
people's  sympathy  made  you  weak,  but  Dr.  Lawrence's  sympathy  al- 
ways made  you  feel  strong.  Perhaps  this  is  one  reason  why  the 
charity  organization  idea  appealed  to  him.  It  too  would  strive  to 
give  the  sympathy  which  makes  one  feel  strong. 

A  letter  follows  from  Mrs.  Griffin,  the  wife  of  Dean  Grif- 
fin, of  Johns  Hopkins  University.  This  letter  at  the  close 
gives  an  illustration  of  Edward's  strong  convictions  with 
regard  to  some  of  the  methods  of  charitable  work. 

Though  deep  feeling  at  one  time  is  silent,  at  another  time  it 
is  eager  to  speak,  and  I  only  wish  any  word  of  mine  might  kindle 
into  flame  the  spirit  of  true  life,  which  went  out  from  us  when  Mr. 
Lawrence  was  taken  away.  I  like  to  think  what  constituted  his 
strength.  In  old  Homeric  times,  one  was  the  strong  man,  another 
was  the  wise  man.  One  was  Achilles,  another  Hector,  but  all  seemed 
combined  in  Mr.  Lawrence.  As  I  try  to  divide  or  single  out  what 
attracted  me  in  him,  it  was  first,  his  noble  sincerity.  With  all  his 
courtesy  he  was  absolutely  sincere;  and  second  his  large,  broad,  wide 


360   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


sympathy ;  and  he  spent  his  sympathy  where  it  told  the  most.  How 
truly  could  the  angel 

"Write  him  a^  one  whe  loved  his  fellowmen!" 

He  seemed  to  me  uncommonly  wide  in  his  intellectual  grasp.  I  was 
often  struck  with  the  fact,  whether  it  were  philanthropy  or  politics  in 
this  country  or  any  other,  whether  philosophy  or  poetr}%  which  was 
uppermost  of  an  evening,  in  either  he  entered  with  more  knowledge 
of  the  subject  than  those  who  had  it  in  hand,  and  yet  one  might  have 
said  of  him  what  I  overheard  Dr.  Peabody  say  of  a  man:  "A  very 
wise  man  and  as  modest  as  he  is  wise." 

In  practical  life  Mr.  Lawrence  excelled  in  philanthropic  work. 
There  his  wise  judgment  and  great  economy  of  effort  struck  me, 
though  I  was  not,  as  I  wish  I  could  have  been,  one  of  his  helpers. 
His  deep  conscientiousness  was  not,  as  is  so  often  the  case,  in  inverse 
ratio  to  his  horizon ;  his  outlook  was  broad  and  generous.  The  last 
evening  I  saw  him,  a  few  days  before  he  left  us,  I  talked  to  him  of 
plans  to  help  the  poor  this  coming  winter.  I  told  him  of  extreme 
destitution  which  had  been  relieved  last  winter  at  our  police  stations, 
which  were  made  depots  for  food  and  clothing  during  the  extreme 
weather.  I  could  not  move  him  from  his  sound  judgment,  which 
saw  that  mode  of  rendering  aid  was  unwise. 

Mr.  Lawrence  was  a  singularly  pure  man,  as  free  from  "surmis- 
ings  of  evil"  as  it  was  possible  for  him  to  be,  and  I  am  sure  no 
amount  of  even  persecution  or  enmity  would  ever,  in  word,  thought 
or  deed,  make  him  disloyal  to  his  friend.  You  remember  Chaucer's 
"Man  of  Religion?"    It  is  so  descriptive. 

"This  noble  ensample  unto  his  sheep  he  gaf — 
That  first  he  wroughte,  and  after  that  he  taughte." 

Excuse  my  poor  way  of  trying  to  put  my  thoughts  of  him  together. 
All  effort  of  that  kind  seems  unavailing. 

About  this  time,  and  when  there  was  not  a  Httle  criticism, 

even  among  good  people,  not  excluding  clergymen,  of  Dr. 

Parkhurst's  fearless  course  in  detecting  and  exposing  some 

of  the  evils  of  the  city,  the  following  appeared  in  the  New 

York  Tribune: — 

At  a  meeting  of  Presbyterian  ministers  in  Baltimore,  last  week, 
resolutions  offered  by  Rev.  Edward  A.  Lawrence  were  unanimously 
adopted,  declaring  that  the  increasing  social  evils  and  perils  of  mod- 
ern cities,  together  with  the  municipal  misgovernment,  corruption, 
official  connivance  with  crime,  and  the  indifference  and  ignorance  of 
citizens,  call  for  especial  faithfulness  on  the  part  of  all  ministers  of 
the  Gospel  in  setting  forth  the  responsibility  of  citizenship  and  of  of- 
ficial position,  and  that  the  thanks  of  parents.  Christians,  pastors, 
and  all  good  citizens,  are  due  to  Dr.  Parkhurst  for  the  determination 
and  courage  with  which,  as  president  of  the  Society  for  the  Suppres- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


361 


sion  of  Vice,  he  has  exposed  the  nests  of  vice  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  and  also  the  fearful  delinquency  of  those  who  are  set  to  guard 
the  public  peace  and  morals. 

While  Edward  believed  in  opposing  wrong  with  unspar- 
ing fearlessness,  as  his  Parkhurst  resolutions  testify,  yet 
on  the  other  hand  he  was  very  charitable  in  his  judgments. 
In  this  connection,  I  am  tempted  to^  give  a  few  words  from 
a  letter  by  Mr.  J.  M.  Casanowiez,  a  Russian,  who  is  en- 
gaged in  the  Washington  National  Museum: — 

"I  met  your  son  in  one  of  the  ministers'  meetings  in  Bal- 
timore. A  sermon  read  by  one  of  the  clergymen  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  comments  and  criticisms  of  all  present.  I  was 
touchingly  impressed  with  the  charitable  and  irenic  spirit, 
the  wide-heartedness  and  broadness  of  mind,  and  the  habit 
of  attributing  to  his  fellowmen  sincere  and  noble  motives, 
that  were  revealed  in  Dr.  Lawrence's  remarks." 

May  29th. 

I  am  writing  a  paper  for  the  Eclectic,  and  have  about  completed  an 
article  for  Funk  and  Wagnall's  new  Mission  Cyclopedia,  on  Tlie  Re- 
lations of  Missionaries  to  Government.  So  you  see  I  am  working  on 
outside  lines.  I  speak  for  the  Christian  Endeavor  of  the  Baptist 
Church,  next  Friday ;  preach  at  the  House  of  Refuge,  June  isth,  and 
give  the  address  at  the  City  College  Commencement,  June  23d. 
Meantime,  the  church  goes  on  at  a  little  less  high  pressure  than  in  the 
winter,  and  I  shall  have  a  few  more  free  evenings. 

We  had  a  delightful  Children's  Sociable,  Monday  night,  for  our 
Young  Pilgrims, — singing,  games,  refreshments  .  .  The  cars  you 
inquired  about  contain  fifteen  bushels  of  oysters.  The  shells  are 
used  for  roads  and  burnt  for  lime. 

Mrs.  Ferguson,  who  is  as  good  and  kind  as  possible,  has  got  a 
screen  which  I  put  before  my  open  door,  giving  a  current  of  air  at 
night.  Saturday  we  had  an  ideal  picnic.  .  .  As  to  Dr.  S's  objec- 
tions to  the  conversion  of  Maurice  Vinton  without  an  adequate  an- 
swering of  his  doubts,  I  should  say  that  life  is  deeper  and  stronger 
than  thought,  and  you  have  used  the  life-method.  The  man  whom 
he  wants  philosophically  converted,  you  have  had  vitally  converted, 
and  that  is  the  method  of  nature  and  history.  The  Metcalfs  left 
this  morning,  to  my  great  regret.  Mr.  M.  is  appointed  professor  of 
Chemistry  and  Physics  at  Carleton  College,  Northfield,  Minnesota. 

Baltimore,  June  17th,  1890. 
Just  back  from  Conference  in  Falls  Church,  Va.    The  second  Sun- 
■day  in  July  I  am  to  supply  at  Old  South,  Boston.    I  want  to  go  with 
you  to  the  Reformatory  at  Concord,  and  can  best  go  on  Monday. 
Should  I  miss  your  letters?    I  think  so.    Don't  try  it! 


362   REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


June  29th. 

De  Forest  of  Japan  came  down  to  spend  Sunday  with  me,  and 
preached  this  morning  with  great  acceptance.  He  is  a  ro}'al  fellow. 
I  have  talked  over  my  mission  writing  with  him.  and  he  urges  me  to 
go  ahead  and  publish.    I  will  talk  with  you  about  it. 

To  the  warm  invitation  of  Edward's  mother  for  a  visit. 
Dr.  De  Forest  replied: — "Somehow  your  son  and  I  have 
been  tied  into  a  ver\-  tight  friendship,  which  is  of  immense 
strength  to  me.  ]My  plans  of  work  have  been  enlarged  and 
enriched  by  contact  with  him.  You  have  my  congratula- 
tions on  your  unusual  fortune  in  such  a  son.  ...  I  will 
nm  down  for  a  night,  unless  some  overpowering  reason 
prevents." 

Dr.  De  Forest  was  so  pressed  with  engagements  that  he 
could  not  spare  a  night,  but  managed  to  give  me  a  few 
hours,  which  were  well  improved. 

One  of  the  letters  which  it  fell  to  me  to  answer,  after  Ed- 
ward's departure,  was  from  Dr.  De  Forest,  congratulating' 
him  on  his  betrothal.  In  reply  to  the  sad  tidings  I  sent 
him,  he  wrote  from  Kyoto: — 

April  loth.  1894. 

Your  sorrowful  letter  finds  me  just  about  to  start  for  the  states. 
My  letter  of  congratulation  was  meant  onh'  for  his  eyes,  written  as 
it  was  in  the  dash  and  familiarity  of  old  friendship.  I  feared  it 
would  fall  into  your  hands  and  only  add  to  your  grief,  and  I  wished 
I  could  recall  it.  But  j'ou  have  put  a  good  construction  on  it,  and  I 
thank  you  for  j-our  quick  perception  of  the  way  two  old  friends  write 
to  each  other. 

^^'hile  this  providence  must  have  almost  crushed  you,  it  was  a 
heavy  disappointment  to  a  wide  circle  of  friends  who  valued  him 
more  than  words  can  express.  I  wondered  whether  a  letter  from  me 
to  you  and  to  the  one  he  loved  would  be  welcome,  or  would  be  al- 
most an  intrusion,  and  I  concluded  there  would  be  so  many  others, 
whose  right  and  privilege  it  would  be  to  send  you  fitting  messages  of 
sympathy,  that  it  was  rather  my  duty  to  keep  silence.  But  now  that 
I  have  the  door  opened  by  you.  I  will  gladly  give  you  an  account  of 
mj-  acquaintance  with  your  noble  son. 

We  were  classmates  at  Yale,  but  we  simply  knew  each  other  as 
Yale  men.  and  were  thrown  into  quite  different  circles  of  companion- 
ship. One  of  the  early,  strong  impressions  I  have  of  him  is  a  chance 
meeting,  some  time  after  graduation,  on  the  corner  where  Osburn 
Hall  now  stands.  He  had  returned  from  Germany  and  was  engaged 
as  tutor  at  Yale.  He  and  I  were  looking  forward  to  a  life  work  in 
the  ministrj-,  and  the  handshake  we  had  there  did  more  to  form  our 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  363- 


friendship  than  our  whole  previous  course  together.  Froin  that 
time  we  knew  each  other  as  fellow  laborers  in  God's  vineyard,  he  iri 
one  of  his  earlier  pastorates,  and  I  in  Japan.  Our  next  meeting  was 
in  the  Adirondacks.  Six  years  of  work  out  here  had  broken  me  down 
and  I  was  home  for  rest.  Two  friends  and  myself  were  in  camp 
on  Ausable  Pond,  when  most  unexpectedly  Lawrence  and  Hall 
turned  up.  We  were  on  the  lake  a  few  days  and  we  drew  together 
gloriously.  Lawrence  took  photos,  and  I  have  one  of  Ausable  he 
sent  me  at  Sendai.  We  had  a  Sunday  meeting  and  I  did  the  mis- 
sionary talk — one  he  referred  to  years  after  as  helpful  and  inspiring. 

So  when  he  wrote  me  that  he  was  coming  to  Japan,  I  needed 
nothing  more  to  deepen  our  casual  friendship  into  one  that  should 
mean  all  that  is  possible.  He  came  to  my  tent  on  Hieizan  (ten  miles 
from  Kyoto)  and  spent  a  week  with  me  there  in  the  summer  of  1887. 
He  studied  missionary  work  with  his  philosophical  mind  and  put  me 
to  my  wits'  end  by  the  penetrating  questions  he  asked.  He  preached 
to  our  mission  there,  in  an  easy  off-hand  way,  on  God's  Word  in  the 
Bible  and  in  Nature.  It  took  him  about  fifteen  minutes  to  write  his 
heads,  and  then  he  said  "he'd  go  and  mull  it  over  a  bit."  We  all 
listened  with  great  pleasure  and  profit. 

He  believed  missions  could  be  carried  on  in  a  scientific  manner, 
that  would  give  the  largest  results  in  an  abiding  form  with  the  least 
expenditure  of  men  and  money.  He  could  see  the  mistakes  of  mis- 
sionaries and  Boards,  and  he  was  sure  these  could  be  gradually  elim- 
inated. He  had  a  heart  that  was  not  merely  sympathetic  with  the 
missionaries,  but  what  is  rarer,  with  the  Japanese  also.  He  wanted 
to  see  things  from  their  standpoint  as  well  as  ours,  and  we  encour- 
aged that  spirit  to  the  full.  He  gathered  his  facts  from  many  and 
diverse  sources,  and  then  knew  how  to  put  them  together  in  the  right 
perspective. 

I  saw  then  that  he  had  a  grasp  on  things  and  could  take  a  broad 
philosophical  view  of  movements  and  tendencies.  He  loved  progress, 
though  he  knew  there  was  a  vital  connection  with  the  past,  and  that 
conservatism  has  its  germs  of  eternal  truth  which  no  man  should 
despise.  He  held  the  great  orthodox  principles  and  truths  firmly  and 
looked  out  on  the  critical  and  progressive  movement  as  one  that,  in 
the  long  run,  would  bring  its  treasure  of  good  into  the  ever-enlarg- 
ing storehouse  of  wisdom  that  is  imperishable. 

During  that  week  he  said  he  wanted  to  do  something  to  link  his 
work  and  mine  together,  somehow.  So  I  suggested  that  he  raise 
funds  to  give  a  postgraduate  course  at  Yale  to  the  young  man,  Mr. 
Ichihara,  who  was  going  to  Sendai  to  be  principal  of  the  school  in 
which  I  too  was  to  teach.  He  entered  into  it  enthusiastically  and 
secured  the  help  of  Yale  '68  men,  and  the  result  was  that  Mr. 
Ichihara  won  his  Ph.  D.  at  Yale  and  afterwards  was  Acting  Princi- 
pal of  the  Doshisha  at  Kyoto.  I  count  your  son's  friendship  one  of 
the  blessings  of  my  life. 


364   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

While  Dr.  De  Forest  was  in  America,  he  passed  a  night 
at  Linden  Home,  sleeping  in  Edward's  room,  which  he  had 
playfully  christened  The  Apostles  and  which  still  goes  by 
that  name.  I  had  the  great  satisfaction  of  reading  with  him 
the  chapter  on  China,  Corea,  and  Japan  in  my  son's  Mod- 
ern Missions  in  the  East,  which  it  had  fallen  to  me  to  re- 
vise for  publication. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


CHURCH  WORK,  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

"Still  through  our  paltry  stir  and  strife 

Glows  down  the  wished  ideal, 
And  longing  molds  in  clay  what  life 

Carves  in  the  marble  real. 
To  let  the  new  life  in,  we  know. 

Desire  must  ope  the  portal. 
Perhaps  the  longing  to  be  so 

Helps  make  the  soul  immortal." 

Complying  with  Edward's  request,  I  met  him  in  Boston 
in  July,  and  heard  him  preach  to  large  congregations  in 
the  Old  South  church,  and  without  notes.  Professor 
Charles  M.  Mead  was  present  and  gratified  his  mother 
by  telling  her  that  it  was  the  best  sermon  he  had 
heard  for  years. 

According  to  our  arrangements  we  went  out  to  Con- 
cord the  next  day,  Mr.  Batt  meeting  us.  In  the  evening, 
he  took  us  to  the  State's  Prison,  more  fittingly  called  The 
Reformatory,  where  Edward  gave  a  talk  to  the  gathered  in- 
mates, who  listened  with  the  greatest  attention. 

From  Our  Paper,  edited  by  the  chaplain,  a  few  words  are 
taken : — 

"Mr.  Lawrence  was  very  warmly  welcomed  by  the  aud- 
ience, and  gave  a  few  word-pictures  on  scenes  in  his  jour- 
ney round  the  globe.  His  description  of  the  most  beauti- 
ful building  in  the  world,  the  structure  of  white  marble 
erected  by  an  Eastern  king  as  a  memorial  to  his  wife,  was 
greatly  enjoyed,  while  other  sketches  gave  equal  pleasure." 

In  the  morning  we  went  to  Sherburne  to  the  Woman's 
prison,  managed  entirely  bv  women.    This  prison  Edward 


366    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


had  been  desiring  to  visit,  and  he  was  greatly  pleased  with 
all  that  he  saw. 

In  connection  with  these  visits  I  am  unwilling  to  omit 
the  mention  of  that  made  at  Lexington,  to  our  dear  Dr. 
Hamlin,  the  veteran  missionary-,  known  and  read  of  all 
men,  and  whose  devoted  wife  is  the  writer  of  a  number  of 
poems,  among  them  that  beautiful  one,  "The  little 
girl's  good-morning  to  God."  Here  also  we  met  Rev.  Mr. 
Porter,  whom,  in  spite  of  all  our  eflforts,  Edward  had  missed 
abroad.  It  hardly  need  be  said  that  every  minute  of  that 
visit  with  its  Ti:rkish  cup  of  coffee  was  enjoyed.  . 

I  cannot  forbear  giving  a  few  lines  from  the  poem  and 
also  a  letter  from  Dr.  Hamlin,  written  after  Edward  passed 
-into  the  Beyond: — 

The  little  one  turned  her  bright  eyes  with  a  nod ; 

"Mamma,  may  I  say,  then,  Good  morning  to  God?" 

"Yes,  little  darling  one,  surely  you  may; 

Kneel  as  you  kneel  every  morning  to  pray !" 

Mary  knelt  solemnly  down,  with  her  eyes 

Lifted  up  earnestly  unto  the  skies ; 

And  two  little  hands,  that  were  folded  together, 

Softly  she  laid  on  the  lap  of  her  mother. 

"Good  morning.  Dear  Father  in  Heaven."  she  said; 

"I  thank  Thee  for  watching  my  snug  little  bed — 

For  taking  good  care  of  me  all  the  dark  night, 

And  waking  me  up  with  the  beautiful  light ! 

Oh,  keep  me  from  naughtiness  all  the  long  day. 

Blest  Jesus,  who  taught  little  children  to  pray!" 

An  angel  look  down  in  the  sunlight  and  smiled; 
But  she  saw  not  the  angel — that  beautiful  child ! 

The  following  is  the  letter  from  Dr.  Hamlin: — 

Edward  Lawrence  was  one  of  the  most  admirable  of  Christian 
ministers, — a  man  of  wide  reading,  of  clear  thought,  of  retiring 
modesty,  yet  of  unfailing  courage  which  could  calmly  face  danger  and 
rise  to  heroic  effort. 

He  could  never  be,  at  first  acquaintance,  fully  understood  or  right- 
ly valued.  His  native  modesty  kept  him  in  the  background.  He 
never  put  himself  forward,  or  advanced  his  own  views  uncalled  for. 

But  when  circumstances  called  him  out,  he  was  quite  another  man 
and  his  thoughts  would  be  expressed  clearly,  logically,  and  with  a 
force  to  carry  conviction  and  win  assent,  rather  than  gain  applause. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE.  JR. 


367 


His  rank  as  a  scholar  was  high;  his  preparation  for  every  depart- 
ment of  ministerial  work  was  rich  and  deep ;  yet  he  selected  for  his 
life's  work  a  department  not  too  often  or  too  readily  chosen  by  men 
of  scholarly  tastes  and  equipment.  While  he  ministered  to  culti- 
vated people,  he  could  not  forget  that  "Unto  the  poor  the  Gospel  is 
preached,"  words  to  him  of  amazing  significance  from  the  lips  of  our 
Lord  himself.  He  had  surveyed  the  heights  and  depths  of  hu- 
manity in  all  the  great  populous  regions  of  the  globe,  and  every 
where  he  had  seen  multitudes  of  the  people  in  poverty  and  ignor- 
ance. Looking  at  the  masses  here  at  home  where  there  is  so  much 
that  is  hopeful,  he  saw  a  portion  living  in  a  hopeless  poverty,  and 
some  in  degrading  ignorance  which  the  Christian  church  ought  to 
reach  and  help  to  rise.  He  gave  himself  to  this  work  with  tireless 
zeal.  The  teaching  power  of  this  Memorial,  both  to  the  ministry 
and  to  the  church,  lies,  in  good  measure,  in  this  part  of  his  conse- 
crated life. 

But  whoever  wishes  to  make  a  close  acquaintance  with  Edward 
Lawrence  must  read  the  closing  lecture  in  his  book.  Modern  Mis- 
sions in  the  East.  Here  we  see  him  as  a  traveller,  an  investigator, 
and  a  co-worker  with  missionaries  of  various  denominations.  He  is 
making  a  journey  round  the  world  for  the  sole  purpose  of  surveying 
the  whole  missionary  work  of  the  Christian  Church.  You  cannot 
read  his  report  without  seeing  that  he  was  a  man  of  resources  as  well 
as  of  great  personal  influence  among  men.  Whatever  unexpected 
conditions  may  confront  him,  he  is  equal  to  them.  He  could  travel 
safely  among  heathen  people,  winning  confidence  and  friendship, 
and  that  with  no  adequate  knowledge  of  the  language.  That  such 
a  man  should  be  withdrawn  from  his  work  perplexes  our  human 
judgment,  and  we  can  only  say  for  our  consolation. 

The  Lord  reigneth. 

After  a  brief  visit  at  home,  Edward  started  for  his  Adi- 
rondack trip;  making  a  pleasant  call  at  Burlington,  Vt.,  on 
his  friends,  Mrs.  Francis  and  her  son,  and  thence  to  Platts- 
burg,  where  his  fellow  travellers  joined  him. 

Aug.  3d,  1890. 

On  Cold  River.  It  was  just  dark  when,  after  a  day's  tramp,  we 
reached  here.  We  made  a  fire,  cooked  our  supper,  and  then  stretched 
ourselves  out  on  our  blankets.  In  the  morning  it  looked  cloudy,  but 
cleared  off.  After  breakfast  came  a  general  washing,  and  then  we 
prepared  for  service.  Two  guides,  who  were  camping  near  us,  were 
first  invited.  Then  we  heard  two  voices  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river.  When  they  came  near  we  invited  them  to  church.  They 
came,  and  turned  out  to  be  two  young  men  from  Brooklyn  and  New 
York.  So  right  there  in  the  heart  of  the  woods  we  had  a  congre- 
gation of  eight, — from  Plattsburg,  New  Haven,  New  York,  Brook- 
lyn, and  Baltimore,  besides  three  guides.  It  was  a  unique  service  in 
the  depths  of  the  forest.  Then  I  took  charge  of  getting  our  Sun- 
day dinner,  oatmeal,  lamb  chops  and  coffee. 


368    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Saranac  Lake,  Aug.  6th,  1890. 
The  great  climb  has  been  achieved.  We  camped  night  before  last 
on  Mt.  Seward.  Monday,  Aug.  4th,  must  have  been  the  warmest  day 
in  the  season,  and  I  was  very  hot  in  the  ascent.  There  seemed 
some  fatality  about  that  mountain,  for  in  spite  of  our  last  year's 
climb  and  our  having  one  of  the  best  woodsmen  in  the  country,  we 
still  climbed  up  the  wrong  peak.  It  took  not  long  to  discover  our 
error,  and  on  we  plunged,  our  guide  grumbling  like  a  steam  engine 
all  the  way.  We  camped  on  the  ridge  as  last  year,  only  this  time 
we  had  provisions  enough  to  keep  up  vitality.  We  gathered  moss 
and  boughs,  cut  a  foot  log,  built  a  fine  fire,  put  a  pail  of  cold  water 
close  to  our  heads,  laid  the  rubber  blankets  on  the  boughs,  spread 
blankets  over  them,  and  there,  under  the  clear  stars,  slept  as  if  on 
eider  down.  Our  garments  were  drenched  with  perspiration,  so  we 
hung  them  on  clothes  lines  round  the  camp-fire,  until  I,  as  the  last 
one  to  fall  asleep,  took  them  in  from  the  dew.  Then  the  late  full 
moon  rose,  and  all  was  peace  and  light.  Heavy  fog  the  next  morn- 
ing, but  on  we  pushed.  Then  we  stood  on  the  signal,  but  it  was  a 
dreadful  monotony  of  mist.  At  once  it  lifted  as  if  unseen  hands  had 
drawn  up  world-wide  curtains,  and  the  whole  of  the  Adirondacks 
was  before  us.  And  right  beneath  us  was  Ampersand,  which  we 
had  never  visited,  but  were  now  aiming  for.  The  grand  view  paid 
for  the  whole. 

It  was  a  stifif  plunge  down  the  mountain.  But  at  last  we 
struck  the  Pond.  At  the  end  of  a  burnt  point  we  found  a  shanty. 
Now  if  there  is  anything  I  dislike,  it  is  a  shanty.  All  enclosed  as  it 
is,  it  seems  stifling.  Then  we  espied  another  point,  with  a  camp. 
But  a  storm  was  just  breaking.  Could  we  reach  the  camp?  We  can 
try.  Round  through  the  forest  again.  Just  as  the  storm  broke  we 
reached  what  turned  out  to  be  a  three  or  foured  bark  house.  Some 
one  in  the  kitchen  had  rather  surlily  said  we  could  stay  during  the 
rain.  When  Mr.  Hall  and  I  entered,  a  little  girl  came  forward.  "Is 
this  Mr.  Hall?"  "Yes."  "Well,  my  mother  wants  you  to  sit  down 
till  she  can  see  you."  Soon  her  husband  came  in.  They  are  from 
Plattsburg  and  know  Mr.  Hall  well.  Nothing  would  answer  him  but 
for  us  to  pass  the  night  with  them.  When  she  first  saw  us,  little  Flor- 
ence had  thought  we  were  pedlars,  with  our  packs  and  tin  cups  on 
the  belt.  But  when  we  were  found  to  be  three  preachers,  nothing 
could  exceed  the  kindness  we  received.  Oranges  and  lemonade 
were  brought  us.  Our  supper  was  soon  on  the  table,  and  as  provi- 
sions in  our  basket  were  ebbing,  it  was  a  welcome  repast.  Mr. 
Turner  is  a  lumber  man,  and  combines  business  with  pleasure,  camp- 
ing out  with  his  wife  and  child  near  his  lumber  ground.  Ampersand 
is  one  of  the  loveliest  of  lakes,  protected  by  Seward  and  Ampersand 
mountains,  and  full  of  fish.  Our  breakfast  this  morning  was  at 
nine  o'clock.  "Sir.  Turner  says  the  only  way  for  New  York  to  settle 
the  Adirondack  question  is  to  buy  out  the  lumber  men  at  a  fair  val- 
uation, paying  for  their  equipment  in  addition. 

I  am  sadly  cut  up  by  the  rocks  as  to  my  clothes.  I  must  look 
them  over  to  see  whether  I  can  patch  them  up  to  carry  me  through 
the  trip.    Mt.  Seward  is  very  hard  on  trousers. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  369 


Thursday  morning.  The  brightness  of  our  newly  painted  Nannie 
O.  atones  for  our  shabbiness.  Shall  be  off  in  an  hour  or  two.  Never 
saw  so  many  people  in  the  woods. 

Tupper  Lake,  Aug.  loth. 
The  bell  will  ring  for  church  in  a  few  minutes.  Last  year  it  re- 
quired a  little  urging  on  our  part  to  have  service  at  all,  when  I  spoke 
mainly  on  missions.  This  time  they  have  come  to  us.  speaking  of 
it  as  a  settled  thing  that  they  are  to  have  service.  We  found  at 
McCoy's,  where  we  left  yesterday,  that  they  were  quite  depending  on 
our  spending  Sunday  there,  so  as  to  have  service  with  them  as  we 
did  last  year. 

Smith's  Lake,  Aug.  13th,  1890. 
At  the  end  of  Bog  River  the  outlet  was  not  clear,  and  we  wanted 
a  spring  for  our  late  lunch.  Inquiring  of  a  man  in  a  boat,  we  found 
him  at  the  head  of  a  lumbering  party.  He  insisted  that  we  should 
land,  take  our  lunch  in  his  log  shanty  and  drink  a  cup  of  tea.  All 
which  we  were  glad  to  do,  in  the  most  primitive  style  possible.  He 
had  fourteen  men  under  him,  stripping  the  forest  of  all  pine,  spruce 
and  cedar  trees,  the  destruction  going  on  swiftly.  Then  we  carried 
our  boats  around  some  rapids,  waded  through  others,  dragging  both 
boats,  and  then  sped  up  dark  Bog  River  four  miles  to  a  chain  of 
ponds  where  we  intended  to  camp.  It  was  growing  late  as  we  en- 
tered the  Pond  and  met  men  in  their  boats.  They  told  us  our  best 
camping  ground  was  on  a  point  just  above  theirs.  We  found  a  dry 
spot  with  a  bark  shanty  and  the  remains  of  an  old  camp.  But  our 
choice  was  to  sleep  in  the  open  air.  We  all  went  to  work,  getting 
up  a  fire  for  supper,  gathering  boughs  and  grass  for  our  bed,  while 
I  did  the  cooking,  which  was  of  the  simplest.  Our  one  utensil  was 
a  large  pail  for  water  and  coffee.  We  have  learned  to  eschew  butter 
as  hard  to  carry  and  to  take  maple  sugar  in  its  place.  Pork  we 
toasted  with  a  stick.  They  were  out  of  bread  at  Corey's,  but  gave  us 
a  large  box  of  crackers  instead.  Putting  the  pork  between  two  crack- 
ers gave  us  pork  sandwiches.  Condensed  milk  is  always  in  place  for 
hot  water  or  coffee,  and  doughnuts  and  cookies  never  come  amiss. 
We  slept  well  with  the  clear  skv  over  our  heads  and  a  heavy  dew 
on  our  blankets,  and  were  off  soon  after  seven  in  the  morning.  A  row 
through  three  ponds,  passing  several  camps,  four  and  a  half  miles 
around  Bog  River  into  Mud  Lake,  one  of  the  gloomiest  sheets  of 
water  I  have  ever  seen,  and  the  home  of  the  mosquito.  Then  a 
carry  of  two  miles  through  the  woods  to  Bog  Lake.  .  .  Finally 
off  across  Bog  Lake,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  carry  to  Clear  Pond,  a  mile 
across  that,  and  a  mile  carry  to  Harrington  Pond,  eighth  of  a  mile 
across  it,  half  a  mile  down  the  outlet,  and  half  a  mile  carry  to  Smith 
Lake,  with  a  mile  row  to  Smith  Lake  House,  where  we  have  been  re- 
ceived as  old  friends.  It  was  about  as  hard  a  tug  as  we  have  had, 
yet  a  delightful  journey,  full  of  variety. 

Twitchell  Lake,  Aug.  17th. 
Our  guide  had  wrenched  his  shoulder,  so  we  let  him  go,  and  more 
than  ever  were  cast  on  ourselves.  The  absorbing  question  was  the 
cooking,  which  fell  on  me.  I  would  boil  a  dish  of  oatmeal  for  sup- 
per. But  the  oatmeal  did  not  turn  up.  Nothing  remained  but  to  try 
pancakes,  for  which  I  had  procured  a  frying  pan.  I  wish  you  could 


370  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


have  seen  and  enjoyed  my  experiments  and  failures.  But  we  did 
not  enjoy  the  failures,  as  with  us  it  was  a  vital  matter.  We  had 
flour  and  baking  powder  but  I  forgot  to  put  in  any  salt.  It  made 
no  difference,  however,  because  the  cakes  were  too  tough  and 
doughy  to  be  eaten,  though  Mr.  Hall  worked  away  valiantly,  declar- 
ing that  the  nourishment  lay  in  the  dough  and  not  in  the  rising.  Then 
we  consulted  and  I  tried  again,  putting  in  salt  and  more  baking 
powder.  Failure  again !  Once  more,  making  the  batter  thinner. 
Failure  still !  By  this  time  the  edge  of  our  appetite  was  dulled 
through  testing  so  many  experiments.  So  we  concluded  to  postpone 
further  attempts  till  morning  and  to  fall  back  on  bread,  maple  sugar, 
and  doughnuts.  Late  in  the  evening  we  rowed  over  to  another  camp, 
where  we  found  the  Indian  guide,  who  said  the  cakes  must  have 
shortening.  Pork  fat  would  do,  but  lard  was  better,  so  they  gave 
us  a  cup  of  lard.  But  as  our  provisions  were  nearly  out  and  we  found 
a  place  where  we  could  take  our  meals,  we  concluded  to  suspend  our 
cooking. 

Blue  Ridge  Summit,  Pa.,  Sept.  ist,  1890. 
Here  I  am  up  in  the  mountains  again.  I  had  a  very  pleasant  night 
at  Sing  Sing,  at  Mr.  Truesdell's,  and  called  the  next  morning  at 
Ossinning,  where  Mrs.  Sherrard  is  alone  with  her  son.  In  Pough- 
keepsie  I  saw  many  of  our  friends,  and  reached  Baltimore  Friday 
evening.  Made  a  few  calls  and  came  up  here  on  Saturday,  preach- 
ing twice  yesterday  to  city  folks  and  country  folks,  and  finding  the 
work  flourishing.  This  afternoon  I  take  a  run  over  to  Gettysburg, 
then  go  back  to-morrow  to  begin  work. 

Baltimore,  Tuesday. 
It  was  a  thrilling  visit  to  the  battlefield.    Returned  to-day.  and  so 
vacation  ends  and  work  begins.    Pray  that  it  may  be  a  fruitful  year. 

Sept.  5th. 

Walk  in  the  light,  dear  mother.  He  is  the  light  of  the  world. 
Take  good  care  of  yourself.  Eat  enough  nourishing  food,  or  you  will 
break  down.  I  am  glad  you  see  the  uses  of  adversity  and  its  miti- 
gations. I  can  at  least  send  you  the  sinews  of  war.  It  is  a  good 
bad  and  a  bad  good  world,  but  we  will  try  to  make  it  better.  I  would 
rather  be  cheated  than  to  cheat.  I  have  a  beautiful  book  to  read 
with  you,  God  in  his  World. 

When  his  mother  was  again  in  Baltimore,  Edward  read 
to  her,  as  he  found  time,  the  beautiful  book  of  which  he  had 
written,  and  she  heartily  shared  his  high  appreciation. 
Later,  it  became  known  that  the  editor  of  Harpefs 
Monthly,  H.  M.  Alden,  was  the  author  of  God  in  his  World. 
At  one  time,  therefore,  when  Edward  had  occasion  to  call 
at  the  oflfice,  it  was  a  great  pleasure  to  him  to  meet  the  edi- 
tor. And  after  her  son  had  left  her  it  was  a  great  pleasure 
to  his  mother  to  receive  from  Mr.  Alden  the  following 
lines : — 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


I  had  met  your  son  and,  though  it  was  only  for  half  an  hour,  I 
shall  never  forget  him.  There  was  about  him  that  resolute,  manly 
vigor,  which,  veiled  by  the  temperament  such  as  poets  have,  and  soft- 
ened by  such  grace  as  we  see  in  women  and  children,  seemed  to  me 
to  best  express  the  new  type  of  Christian.  It  is  a  personal  loss  to 
me  that  I  may  not  see  him  again  on  earth. 

Baltimore,  Sept.  14th,  1890. 
How  I  would  like,  dear  mother,  to  sit  down  beside  you  and  talk 
with  you!  It  often  comes  to  me  with  a  strange,  sad  feeling,  that 
some  time  one  of  us  will  not  be  here.  How  alone  I  shall  feel,  if,  as 
I  hope  may  be  the  case,  I  am  the  one  left !  Who  has  loved  me  and 
lived  in  me  as  you?  It  is  lonely,  at  times,  to  be  without  those  who 
belong  to  you  and  call  you  family  names.  I  have  never  looked 
forward  to  such  a  life,  and  do  not  now.  Yet  it  would  seem  like 
treason  to  take  anything  that  does  not  seem  the  divinely-appointed 
thing. 

I  feel  dissatisfied  with  myself,  as  if  something  new  and  high  were 
needed  to  bring  the  full  development  and  expansion  of  life  and  its 
powers.  More  life  from  above  would  do  it.  It  may  be  God's  pur- 
pose to  thrust  me  more  wholly  on  that,  so  that  I  may  live  more 
directly  from  him,  and  grow  more  worthy  of  a  higher  happiness  or 
blessedness.  I  have  received  so  much  and  given  so  little.  And  liv- 
ing is  only  through  loving.  Yet  we  can  love  him  more  as  we  have 
more  human  love. 

Oh,  if  we  have  the  secret  of  one  life  and  of  saving  one  soul,  we 
have  the  whole  secret  and  are  ready  for  all.  To  be  divinely  happy 
in  work  for  a  few,  yes  for  one,  that  is  Christlike.  Can  we  drink  the 
cup  he  drank?  To  live  and  labor  for  a  few  with  a  power  which  would 
gain  many — that  is  enough.    Ready  for  use  wherever  he  puts  us. 

And  then,  'tis  only  the  beginning  here.  After  this  short  training 
to  go  forth  equipped  for  eternal  service ;  how  seldom  we  think  of 
that!  Why,  this  is  only  the  Manual  Training  School,  just  to  teach 
us  to  know  our  tools.  So  we  both  of  us  shall  serve  over  there  in 
sweet  companionship  of  all  we  love.  I  do  not  think  I  have  ever  clung 
to  this  earthly  life,  for  while  I  have  \ieen  happy  and  glad  in  all 
earth  could  afford,  it  would  hardly  have  seemed  a  loss  at  any  time 
to  step  on  and  out  to  a  better  world. 

I  have,  with  you,  all  this  sense  of  the  mystery  of  life,  of  the  lapse 
of  time,  of  the  loneliness  of  existence.  But  it  is  all  a  mystery  of 
light,  not  of  darkness,  as  when  a  bright  cloud  overshadowed  Christ 
and  the  disciples  on  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration.  So  I  am  content. 
And  in  the  cloud  I  see  Jesus  more  and  more  plainly.  There  seems 
more  and  more  of  Beauty  and  Love  revealed  if  we  are  only  in  the 
mood  to  catch  them.  SomeUmes,—sometiines  it  seems  as  if  I  should 
get  the  right  word,  and  speak  and  live  the  true,  strong  thing 
which  will  reach  the  heart.  If  only  in  his  own  time  I  may  learn  to 
strike  the  straight  path  that  leads  from  heart  to  heart,  and  life  to 
life,  and  to  carry  divine  freight  vipon  it.  My  path  has  been  too  much 
that  from  brain  to  brain. 

Baltimore,  Sept.  iSth,  1890. 
Thanks  for  all  your  clippings,  which  are  excellent.    I  like  your  re- 
ply in  The  Woman's  Journal.    I  have  no  confidence  in  any  of  your 


372  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


boarding  schemes  to  help  meet  expenses.  When  it  comes  to  payment, 
you  will  not  take  the  money,  so  there's  no  use  in  trving  that. 

Sept.  27th. 

My  Saturday  half  holiday  is  so  important  that  if  I  miss  it  one 
week  I  shall  try  to  take  the  whole  of  the  next.  So  last  Saturday 
morning  I  started  at  eight,  and  walked  until  seven  in  the  evening, 
forty  miles  in  all,  and  a  grand  tramp,  though  taken  alone.  God  bless 
you,  dear  mother ! 

In  the  bulletin  for   Sunday,  Oct.  2nd,  was  the  notice 

— "Evening  Service — Memorial  of  John  G.  Whittier,  the 

Prophet  Bard,  with  readings."    One  of  the  poet's  beautiful 

poems  was  in  the  bulletin: — 

Dear  Lord  and  Father  of  Mankind, 
Forgive  our  feverish  ways. 

Early  in  October  Edward  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Pel- 
ton,  one  of  his  most  earnest  co-laborers  in  the  Charitable 
Organization  Society  at  Poughkeepsie,  deploring  the  lack 
of  interest  in  that  society.  He  Hesired  to  have  a  conference, 
at  which  should  be  present  representatives  of  all  the  chari- 
table societies  in  town,  with  leading  citizens  from  every 
church,  in  order  to  ascertain  whether  further  work  for  the 
cause  would  be  justified.  He  was  anxious  to  secure 
Edward's  attendance,  proposing  to  fix  the  date  to  suit  his 
convenience,  and  to  meet  his  expenses. 

It  need  not  be  said  that  Edward  was  greatly  pained  at 
the  collapse  of  the  society  in  which  he  was  so  deeply  inter- 
ested. But  his  engagements  made  it  impossible  for  him  to 
comply  with  Mr.  Pelton's  request,  and  he  could  only  ex- 
press himself  by  letter. 

In  October,  1890,  on  his  way  to  attend  the  meeting  of  the 
American  Board  at  Minneapolis,  he  sends  his  mother  a 
postal  card: — 

On  train.  Just  coming  into  Chicago.  Rode  three  hours  with 
Father  Starr,  a  most  interesting  Catholic  priest  fram  Baltimore. 

While  in  Chicago  he  called  on  business  at  the  office  of  a 
Mr.  Hammond,  who  after  Edward's  departure,  sent  me  a 
letter  from  which  a  few  lines  are  taken : — 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  373 


I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  tell  you  how  great  an  admiration  I  had  for 
your  son.  Somehow,  I  felt  he  was  my  friend  from  the  first,  although 
just  why  I  cannot  perhaps  explain.  He  always  seemed  to  me  such  an 
honorable  gentleman  that  from  the  beginning  of  our  acquaintance  I 
felt  drawn  towards  him  as  in  few  other  cases. 

I  give  a  few  words  from  a  letter  by  John  Adams,  agent  of 
the  Boston  and  Maine  Railroad,  at  the  Marblehead  station. 
The  letter  was  written  shortly  after  Edward's  departure  and 
some  months  before  my  return  to  Marblehead. 

"I  want  to  say  a  few  words  in  relation  tO'  your  son,  who 
has  left  us.  I  knew  him  twenty  years  ago  when  his  kind 
father  introduced  him  to  me  as  his  son  Edward.  He  has 
always  been  a  friend  to  me,  has  always  spoken  words  of  en- 
couragement and  kindness.  He  always  called  to  see  me 
when  he  came  home,  and  to  say  goodbye  when  he  left.  It 
is  only  a  short  time  since  he  bade  me  goodbye.  I  sorrow 
most  of  all  that  I  shall  see  him  no  more.  But  I  am  told 
there  is  a  brighter  view.  And  I  think  that  if  there  is  any 
one  that  has  left  the  world  who  is  singing  with  the  angels 
he  is  most  surely  one.  Please  accept  my  most  hearty  sym- 
pathy in  your  bereavement." 

Minneapolis,  Oct.  9th,  1890. 
Last  night  I  went  to  Northfield,  and  had  a  charming  visit  with 
Professor  and  Mrs.  Metcalf.    He  is  in  his  element,  having  sixty  in 
his  class  in  the  laboratory.    She  is  just  her  old  self,  only  brighter 
and  stronger. 

You  will  read  all  about  the  Board  meetings,  so  I  will  not  enter  on 
them  now. 

Kasota  Junction,  Oct.  13th. 
I  don't  know  that  I  have  written  you  of  an  amusing  incident  that 
happened  on  the  Continental  when  Mr.  Hall  and  I  were  going  from 
New  Haven  to  New  York.  We  had  sat  awhile  on  deck,  but  I  was 
very  sleepy,  and  turned  into  our  stateroom  first,  taking  the  upper 
berth  and  falling  asleep  at  once.  When  Mr.  Hall  came  in  I  woke  up. 
He  proposed  prayers  and  read  from  a  chapter  of  which  I  secured 
only  the  first  and  last  verses.  Then  he  asked  me  to  pray.  I 
roused  myself  and  leaned  over  in  my  berth,  he  standing  beside  me. 
I  had  just  asked  God  to  bless  our  brother  whom  we  had  left  in 
New  Haven.  Then  followed  a  blank  and  I  was  conscious  of  nothing 
»nore,  until,  from  away  off,  there  seemed  to  ring  out  a  strange 
Amen!  It  half  aroused  me.  Then  I  heard  another  Amen!  and  at 
last  came  to  myself  to  see  Mr.  Hall  standing  beside  me  in  a  strangely 
mingled  mood  of  devotion  and  merriment.    "Well,"  I  exclaimed, 


374   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


"that  is  the  first  time  I  ever  did  that  in  public  before!"  when  his 
mirth  completely  swallowed  up  his  devotion. 

The  clouds  are  dispersing,  and  we  are  going  to  have  clear  weather 
at  last. 

Pierre,  South  Dakota,  Oct.  i6th,  1890. 
Well,  I  have  come,  have  seen,  and  shall  depart.  I  am  agreeably 
disappointed  in  the  looks  of  the  town.  It  has  a  fine  site  in  the  great 
sweep  of  the  Missouri,  and  runs  up  on  the  high,  sightly  bluffs.  All 
it  needs  to  make  it  a  perfect  country  is  rain.  To-night  I  shall  be 
at  Sioux  Falls,  to-morrow  at  Sioux  City.  .  .  As  to  our  land  mat- 
ters, we  shall  know  better  what  to  do  another  time.  The  great 
moral  of  the  whole  is  never  to  take  too  much  for  granted,  not  to 
trust  to  representations  from  interested  parties,  to  do  business  in 
one's  own  name,  and  keep  one's  own  papers,  or  have  a  disinterested 
agent.  Mistakes  may  happen,  but  this  would  reduce  them  to  the 
minimum.  There  are  tremendous  temptations  here  in  the  West  to 
exaggerate.  Commissions  have  been  large.  Eastern  capital  abundant. 
Competition  is  intense  and  demoralizing. 

Lincoln,  Nebraska,  Oct.  iith. 
I  am  here  again  where  I  preached  seventeen  years  ago,  and  the 
little  acorn  of  four  cr  five  thousand  has  grown  to  an  oak  of  about 
sixty  thousand.  Professor  and  IMrs.  Caldwell  were  awaiting  me  at 
the  station.  Dr.  Creegan  also  is  here,  and  preached  in  the  morning, 
while  I  preached  in  the  evening.  Professor  Caldwell  sympathises 
strongly  in  your  tobacco  work. 

From  a  sermon  that  Edward  preached  on  his  return  to 

Baltimore,  upon  the  Wonders  of  the  North  West,  a  passage 

is  given. 

The  very  buildings  in  their  splendor  seem  erected  by  men  who  for-  ■ 
get  that  they  are  mortal,  and  that  a  great  house  without  a  moral 
life  in  it  is  simply  a  gigantic  granite  bubble.  With  all  their  glorious 
possibilities  and  varied  perils,  the  one  need  of  the  North-west  is  the 
saving  power  of  God's  kingdom.  This,  too,  is  there  in  splendid  form. 
Prohibition,  if  it  gains  Nebraska,  will  have  a  solid  phalanx  of  five 
states.  Churches  multiply  with  the  people,  and  the  schools  and  col- 
leges are  thicker  than  the  trees.  Yet  as  in  material,  so  in  spirit- 
ual things,  they  must  depend  largely  on  Eastern  capital.  You 
who  loan  your  money  on  their  farms  and  city  lots  should  invest  it  also 
in  their  churches  and  Sunday  schools.  As  their  rich  fields  languish 
and  harvests  fail  only  because  they  are  denied  rain  from  heaven,  so 
all  their  glories  of  city  and  country  must  decay  into  a  rotten  materi- 
alism, unless  they  have  showers  from  the  heavens  of  God's  grace, 
with  all  spiritual  gifts. 

Baltimore.  Oct.  23d,  1890. 
Back  at  the  old  desk  again.    There  is  a  rush  of  things  to  be  done 
at  once.  I  am  very  busy  in  church  and  out,  and  happy  in  being  busy. 

Oct.  29th. 

All  this  week  I  have  been  trying  to  catch  up  with  work  accruing 
in  my  absence,  and  am  now  nearly  abreast  of  it.  It  is  a  small 
church,  but  a  very  complex  one.    And  it  introduces  me  to  great  op- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  375 


portunities  for  city  work.  Last  night  came  the  first  of  our  sociables. 
I  have  introduced  the  alphabetic  feature,  which  is  a  great  help,  and 
I  am  the  chairman  of  a  gentlemen's  committee  to  furnish  entertain- 
ments. Last  night  a  Mr.  McFadden,  teacher  of  elocution,  read  and 
Mrs.  Doane  sang  exquisitively.  She  gave  Gounod's  Ruth  and 
Naomi,  and  Schnecker's  Do  not  cry,  my  little  girl. 

Baltimore,  Nov.  17th,  1890. 
This  morning  at  the  Ministers'  Meeting  I  met  Dr.  Leftwich  for  the 
first  time.  He  had  called  when  I  was  away.  He  greeted  me  warm- 
ly, and  spoke  with  greatest  praise  of  my  grandfather,  whose  works 
he  said  had  done  more  for  him  than  those  of  any  other  theologian.  I 
attend  the  Presbyterian  Ministers'  Association,  and  am  chairman  of 
the  Topic  Committee,  also  am  doing  much  in  the  C.  O.  S.  I  long 
earnestly  for  a  more  spiritual  life  among  my  people.  A  week  ago  I 
had  written  a  sermon  on  Moses  for  the  evening,  but  on  reading  it 
over  in  the  afternoon  I  was  dissatisfied,  threwVit  aside,  and  preached 
without  notes. 

Baltimore,  Nov.  27th,  1890. 
I  have  thought  much  of  you  this  Thanksgiving  Day.  I  dined  very 
pleasantly  with  the  Pangbornes,  though  I  had  later  invitations  from 
the  Stockbridges  and  the  Hiddens.  A  good  congregation  at  the 
church,  where  I  preached  on  Christ  and  the  Prisoner.  I  am  glad  to 
think  of  you  as  with  Anna  and  not  alone.  Mr.  Jones  of  Madura  is 
to  be  with  me  next  Sunday. 

Dec.  gth. 

On  Sunday  afternoon  I  preached  at  the  Home  for  Incurables. — a 
pathetic  service, — then  visited  some  in  their  rooms.  Last  night  I 
had  a  stag  party  in  the  study  and  parlor.  About  a  dozen  students,  be- 
sides Professor  Griffin  and  six  or  eight  of  our  church  gentlemen. 
We  had  all  the  photographs  out,  had  college  songs,  and  at  last  ap- 
pointed a  committee  of  three  students  to  represent  the  Church  and 
the  University.  To-night  we  have  a  panorama  of  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  and  I  also  go  to  the  annual  meeting  of  the  C.  O.  S.  I  have 
just  begun  a  morning  series  of  sermons  on  The  Kingdom  of  God, 
which  promises  to  be  a  most  fruitful  subject.  But  I  want  to  see  a  much 
deeper  spiritual  life  in  the  church,  and  am  praying  and  working  for 
that. 

Last  week  a  company  of  fifteen  or  sixteen  ministers  who  occasion- 
ally preach  in  the  Penitentiary,  went  through  the  prisons  and  the 
jail,  and  then  had  a  grand  spread  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Griffith,  presi- 
dent of  the  Prisoners'  Aid  Society.    It  was  a  very  pleasant  occasion. 

On  the  bulletin  for  November  20th,  is  the  notice  of  a 
short  sermon  to  the  Juniors  on  Politeness.  It  was  Ed- 
ward's custom  to  add  to  the  bulletins  something  in  prose  or 
verse  that  would  be  cheering  or  helpful.  What  follows  was 
in  the  bulletin  spoken  of. 

Wanted :  Men. 
Not  systems  fit  and  wise, 
Not  faiths  with  rigid  eyes, 


376  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Not  wealth  in  mountain  piles, 
Not  power  with  gracious  smiles, 
Not  even  the  potent  pen. 

Wanted:  Men. 

As  another  instance,  on  the  first  Sunday  in  a  New  Year, 
as  his  people  took  their  seats  and  looked  over  the  bulletin 
awaiting  them,  they  read:  "Behold,  All  Things  Are  Be- 
come New.   The  Pastor  wishes  for  his  People 

A  Happy  New  Year! 
A  Loving  New  Life ! 
Bright  New  Heavens ! 
A  Fruitful  New  Earth!" 

It  is  from  these  bulletins  that  many  facts  have  been  gath- 
ered for  this  Memorial.  Edward's  own  collection  of  them 
with  all  his  pencillings  as  to  the  weather,  the  audiences,  the 
hymns  sung,  and  other  matters,  has  been  bound  and  is  to 
the  mother  a  sacred  volume. 

People  are  all  inquiring, — "When  is  your  mother  coming?"  "After 
Christmas,"  I  reply. 

As  Edward  was  to  preach  the  Dedication  sermon  of  the 
New  Goodwill  Church  at  Syracuse,  it  was  arranged  for  his 
mother  to  remain  till  this  took  place  and  then  return  with 
him.  He  writes,  December  19th,  "I  am  sorry  for  the  delay 
in  your  coming,  but  if  we  pin  our  movements  to  a  movable 
feast,  we  must  move  with  it.  Mr.  Andrus  writes  that  Jan- 
uary 15th  or  i6th,  is  the  probable  time,  bringing  us  to- 
gether on  the  double  birthday,  which  will  be  fine." 

Nowhere  have  my  ministerial  relations  been  more  pleasant  than 
here.  Our  Eclectic  is  always  good.  I  attend  the  Presbyterian  As- 
sociation regularly,  finding  there  the  greatest  courtesy  and  fraternity. 
And  I  am  becoming  acquainted  with  the  general  Ministers'  Union, 
where  I  read  a  paper  on  the  Jewish  question  on  Monday.  I  still  aim 
to  keep  one  day  in  the  week  for  outside  work  and  that  is  to  go 
mainly  on  my  mission  lectures. 

Baltimore,  Dec.  31st,  1890. 
There  is  nothing  here  that  exactly  takes  the  place  of  the  Literary 
and  Reading  Club  in  Poughkeepsie,  or  the  Browning  Club  in  Syra- 
cuse. But  we  have  much  social  life  in  the  church.  At  the  Tysons' 
table  we  have  interesting  conversation  on  all  sorts  of  topics.  Dr. 
Morse  is  married  and  has  brought  his  wife  from  Portland,  a  fine 
New  England  woman. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  377 


If  I  could  find  my  alter  ego,  it  would  be  finding  the  one  thing  lack- 
ing. But  better  to  wait  always  than  make  a  mistake.  So  there  is  my 
old  year's  confession. 

This  is  a  critical  period  for  our  church.  It  needs  a  strong  uplift 
and  outgrowth,  and  I  am  happy  in  laboring  for  this. 

It  has  been  seen  how  dependent  Edward  was  on  vigor- 
ous bodily  exercise,  and  gladly  did  he  hail  the  advent  of 
the  wheel-horse,  concerning  which  he  writes: — 

Yesterday  I  had  my  first  ride  on  the  bicycle,  a  lesson  in  which  the 
boy  held  me  up  and  I  careered  round  a  circle.  I  seemed  at  last  to 
be  riding  on  very  skilfully  when  I  discovered  that  his  hand  was  still 
behind  me.  How  often  do  we  seem  speeding  on  well  ourselves,  when 
if  we  should  look  behind  we  should  find  that  God's  hand  alone  was 
keeping  us  on  the  track. 

When  living  in  Winans  Tenements,  Edward  found  bis 
bicycle  saved  him  much  time  in  passing  back  and  forth. 

It  was  his  endeavor  to  enlist  every  one  in  some  kind  of 
church  work  That  his  efforts  in  this  line  were  appreciated 
and  also  successful,  the  following  letters  from  some  of  his 
young  men  will  show. 

From  Mr.  Edward  Nunn: — 

It  is  with  pleasure  that  I  recall  Mr.  Lawrence's  cheery  presence, 
his  unfailing  humor,  his  good  advice,  and  his  sacrifice  of  self  in  his 
desire  to  serve  others.  In  the  Saturday  afternoon  outings,  he  was  the 
life  of  our  company,  with  story  and  jest  and  reminiscences  of 
many  lands,  without  a  harsh  word  for  any  country  or  for  any  religion, 
but  always  seeing  the  good  in  each,  and  although  never  directly 
pressing  religious  topics  in  our  rambles,  yet  no  one  could  be  left  in 
his  company  without  feeling  that  to  serve  Christ  was  his  chief  aim. 
Although  he  was  a  man  of  the  broadest  culture,  he  had  the  happy 
faculty  of  claiming  the  attention  of  the  most  ignorant  by  the  charm 
of  his  personality  and  his  interest  in  their  small  affairs.  He  was 
at  home  with  the  rich  and  the  poor,  his  sole  thought  being  to  carry 
Christ  to  some  hungry  soul,  or  brighten  some  dull  life.  On  all  the 
questions  of  the  day  he  took  the  most  advanced  ground,  being  as 
conscientious  in  the  smallest  as  well  as  in  the  greatest  affairs,  giving 
us  higher  ideas  of  our  duty  to  the  State  and  to  ourselves  as  individ- 
uals. 

From  Mr.  William  H.  G.  Belt:— 

Nothing  I  can  write  of  your  son  will  in  any  measure  express  my 
feelings.  He  came  not  into  our  parlor,  but  into  our  home.  His  in- 
terest made  one  open  the  inner  heart.  His  great  interest  in  all  things 
pertaining  to  the  betterment  of  mankind  made  me  long  to  do  more 
for  others.  During  our  trip  in  North  Carolina,  a  number  of  my 
friends  met  him,  and  whenever  I  have  seen  them  since,  they  have  al- 


378   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


ways  shown  a  marked  interest  in  everj-thing  relating  to  him.  I  am 
very  thankful  to  my  heavenly  Father  that  he  gave  me  for  even  these 
few  years  to  know  your  son  as  I  did,  not  as  a  pastor  only,  but  as  a 
true  and  dear  friend. 

From  Charles  B.  Bates: — 

I  early  came  to  look  upon  Mr.  Lawrence  as  a  friend  and  helper  to 
whom  I  could  go  in  all  kinds  of  trouble.  And  he  had  great  influence 
in  making  me  a  more  consecrated  Christian.  He  induced  me.  after 
all  others  had  failed,  to  join  the  Christian  Endeavor  Society,  and  con- 
vinced me  that  it  was  my  duty  to  try  to  make  successful  that  por- 
tion of  the  church  work.  He  believed  in  giving  young  people  a 
chance  to  become  familiar  with  the  ways  of  those  older  than  them- 
selves, and  he  carried  this  belief  out  so  successfully  that  two  young 
men  were  sent  to  represent  the  church  at  the  Conference  in  Jersey 
City. 

He  knew  neither  rich  nor  poor,  high  nor  low.  All  were  equal  in 
his  sight  and  received  the  same  attention.  He  was  brave  and  fear- 
less in  his  utterances,  and  lived  up  to  what  he  preached.  He  was 
ready  to  make  any  sacrifices  for  others.  He  had  a  bright  and  cheer- 
ful disposition,  and  never  depressed  one  with  the  feeling  that  reli- 
gion was  a  solemn  thing,  good  for  old  people,  but  he  made  you  feel 
that  it  was  good  for  young  and  old  alike. 

I  feel  that  something  has  gone  out  of  my  life  and  left  a  void  that 
will  not  be  filled  till  we  meet  in  that  world  where  there  is  no  more 
parting. 

From  Mr.  Frank  S.  Brown: — 

April  loth,  1894. 

My  admiration  for  Mr.  Lawrence  began  even  before  I  ever  saw 
him,  from  expressions  in  his  correspondence  with  the  trustees  of  our 
church,  and  also  from  the  report  which  our  committee  gave  upon 
their  return  from  Sing  Sing.  After  he  became  our  pastor,  I  was  in- 
timately associated  with  him  in  the  various  plans  for  church  and 
Sunday  school  work. 

Recognizing  at  once  that  he  was  a  worker.  I  knew  that  he  would 
expect  others  to  work  too.  Consequently  I  offered  my  services  in 
any  line  that  he  might  think  me  best  fitted  for,  suggesting  at  the  same 
time  that  I  did  not  think  I  could  as  a  rule  take  part  in  prayer-meet- 
ings to  the  edification  of  others  or  benefit  to  myself.  His  reply  to 
this  suggestion  was  in  substance  this,  "Well,  even  churches  must 
have  mechanical  work  done  sometimes,  and  perhaps  you  can  do  that." 
I  am  sure  that  he  had  in  mind  the  illustrated  sermons  he  after- 
wards gave. 

We  had  frequent  conferences  upon  the  subject  of  the  first  lecture 
of  local  interest.  "How  the  other  half  of  Balti7)iore  lives,"  the  illus- 
trated part  of  which  I  had  agreed  to  supply.  To  do  this,  it  was 
necessary  to  visit  the  courts,  lanes  and  alleys  and  narrow  byways 
where  the  poorest  of  the  poor  lived,  and  where  vice  and  crime  neces- 
sarilj'  existed.  It  was  in  these  trips  together  that  I  became  the  best 
acquainted,  and  learned  to  love  and  admire  Mr.  Lawrence. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1S93  I  commenced  taking  photographs  for 
the  lecture  to  be  given  on  the  last  Sunday  of  November,  entitled 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


379 


"What  is  doing  for  the  other  half."  I  had  the  material  nearly  ready 
upon  the  return  of  Mr.  Lawrence  from  his  summer  vacation  and 
we  had  several  conferences  on  the  subject,  and  I  believe  the  last 
call  Mr.  Lawrence  ever  made  was  at  our  house  the  evening  before  he 
was  taken  sick.  I  had  never  known  a  man  before  who  could  adapt 
himself  so  well  to  any  circumstance;  he  could  be  young  with  the 
young,  and  old  with  the  old,  and  he  was  always  the  life  of  the  com- 
pany. 

From  Mr.  John  H.  Welsh:— 

I  am  slow  as  a  general  thing  in  making  acquaintances  and  friends, 
•but  I  found  no  trouble  whatever,  in  this  respect,  with  Mr.  Lawrence. 
He  was  one  of  the  most  approachable  men,  either  as  a  man  or  a 
minister,  that  I  have  ever  known. 

Li  his  preaching  he  did  not  ask  his  people  to  do  what  he  would 
not  do  himself,  and  any  one  who  knew  him,  knew  that  if  he  set  up 
an  ideal,  he  was  striving  as  much  to  reach  it  as  he  would  have 
•others  do. 

He  did  not  preach  missions,  and  then  withhold  his  contributions, 
but  he  was  one  of  the  largest  givers  to  missionary  objects.  He 
helped  one  to  appreciate  the  blessedness  of  supporting  these  objects, 
and  I  think  one  of  the  best  of  the  many  good  things  he  accom- 
plished at  the  church  was  the  change  made  in  raising  funds  for  the 
missionary  societies. 

One  of  my  greatest  pleasures,  during  the  last  few  months  of  his 
life,  was  the  frequent  opportunity  I  had  to  be  with  him.  The  rides 
we  used  to  take  on  the  bicycle,  either  by  ourselves  or  with  one  or 
two  others,  were  the  most  enjoyable  I  have  ever  had. 

Mr.  Henderson,  in  the  letter  he  wrote  about  my  son,  Iiad 
reason  for  the  feeling  he  expresses  as  to  "dispensing  with 
his  title."  And  from  the  letters  now  given,  as  well  as 
■others,  it  will  be  inferred  that  his  people  generally  shared 
this  feeling.  Yet  Edward  had  long  been  accustomed 
to  the  title.  Many  at  home  and  abroad  seemed  to  take  it 
for  granted  that  he  was  a  D.  D.  and  thus  addressed  him  to 
his  great  annoyance,  for  he  could  not  be  continually  pro- 
testing. In  that  sense  it  was  a  relief  when  it  came  to  him. 
And  there  was  no  red  tape  about  it.  It  was  very  pleasant 
as  bestowed  by  Beloit,  where  he  had  had  such  delightful  in- 
tercourse with  President  Eaton,  Professor  Blaisdell  and 
others.  Moreover,  as  he  wrote,  "I  am  glad  for  the  sake  of 
my  dear  ones  that  a  degree  has  been  given  me,"  but 
added, — "I  prefer  you  would  not  generally  use  the  title  in 
addressing  my  letters,  and  I  would  not  have  my  people 


380   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


change  from  the  simple  Mr.,  to  which  they  have  been  ac- 
customed." 

In  January,  1891,  Edward  preached  a  sermon  on  Snares 
for  Young  Men,  and  in  February,  on  Snares  for  Young 
Women,  concerning  the  latter  of  which  the  following  ap- 
peared in  the  Baltimore  Sun  : — 

"A  Plain  Talk  to  Girls,  by  Rev.  Dr.  Lawrence. 

"Frivolity,  Vanity,  Insincerity,  Cowardice,  Coquetry, 
and  Unwomanlikeness  are  the  six  snares  he  described." 

Some  extracts  from  the  report  of  the  sermon  are 
given : — 

Vanity  is  a  snare  which  finally  drags  some  women  down  to  perdi- 
tion. It  makes  slaves  to  fashion.  And  fashion's  decrees  are  often  as 
cruel  as  they  are  ugly  and  false.  Dress  is  supposed  to  be  woman's 
great  ally  in  this  effort  for  conquest.  The  dress  of  the  actress  is 
praised  and  advertised  more  than  her  acting.  Fashion  wastes  the 
revenue  of  a  kingdom,  and  makes  many  a  working  girl  put  all  her 
wages  on  her  back.  It  devastates  the  air  of  its  song  and  beauty  to 
get  birds  for  women's  wear,  though  the  Princess  of  Wales  has  led 
the  Audubon  Society  in  ordering  that  nothing  be  submitted  for  the 
inspection  of  herself  or  daughters  in  which  birds  are  used  for  trim- 
ming. Fashion  devastates  a  woman's  heart ;  first,  of  the  sense  of 
taste,  by  making  her  admire  much  which  is  essentially  ugly,  and 
then,  still  further,  of  the  sense  of  modesty  and  decency  by  persuading 
her  to  perpetuate  exposures  of  herself  which  should  cause  the  lily  to 
blush  for  shame.  Fashion  cramps,  tortures,  maims,  disables  the 
body,  wrecking  the  health  of  many  a  woman,  causing  young  men  to 
shrink  from  seeking  sudi  a  frail  and  expensive  luxury  for  a  wife, 
and  unfitting  our  daughters  and  sisters  to  be  mothers.  Fashion  is 
one  of  the  commonest  snares  in  which  women  are  caught  through 
vanity.  Be  beautiful,  young  women;  do  not  merely  appear  so.  Let 
the  inward  light  of  goodness  and  graciousness  shine  through  your 
faces,  let  self-seeking  and  self-conceit,  the  foes  of  beauty,  depart,  and 
simplicity  come  over ;  then  you  are  queens  in  truth. 

3.  Insincerity. — These  snares  are  many:  affectation,  artificiality, 
conventionalism — all  lack  of  genuineness  and  reality.  Who  has  not 
seen  the  bright,  earnest,  sensible  girl  of  the  home  transformed  in  a 
few  minutes  into  the  unreal  creature  of  society  with  her  company 
manners,  her  affected  graces,  her  assumed  smiles  and  superficial 
banter?  The  world  will  tempt  you  to  a  thousand  evasions,  deceits, 
hypocrisies,  if  you  wish  to  gain  your  point.  Society  will  justify  your 
little  lies  and  call  them  pretty  names.  So  you  may  get  entangled  in 
a  mesh  of  falsehood  in  which  you  both  live  and  love  a  lie.  Oh,  be 
true,  be  genuine,  be  yourselves !  No  mask  is  beautiful,  no  lie  is 
strong ;  be  true.    So  you  will  avoid  a  hundred  snares. 

4.  Cowardice. — Women  who  greatly  wish  to  please  are  often 
afraid  to  speak  the  truth.    They  are  cowards  and  know  it.  They 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  38 1 


see  things  about  them  which  they  feel  to  be  wrong,  but  dare  not  say 
•what  they  think,  and  even  seem  to  smile  approval  of  what  they  detest. 
They  dislike  smoking,  drinking,  and  coarse  jests,  but  too  often  seem 
to  sanction  them  by  silence  and  amiability.  How  many  dare  not  rebel 
against  fashion  even  in  favor  of  health  and  of  decency? 

5.  Coquetry. — There  are  some  young  women  who  never  become 
silly  until  they  are  with  young  men,  especially  if  those  young  men 
wear  brass  buttons.  Then  they  are  caught  in  the  net  of  flirtatiousness. 

6.  Unwomanliness. — It  is  a  tribute  to  womanhood  to  say  that 
many  snares  simply  tempt  you  to  unwomanliness.  The  loud,  harsh 
voice,  the  slangy  phrase,  the  smart  banter  and  chaff,  the  coarse  re- 
mark, the  indelicate  dress  or  pose,  the  hoydenish  manners,  the  "loud" 
styles — it  is  enough  to  say  of  these  snares  that  they  are  unwomanly. 

To-day  is  woman's  opportunity.  Her  fetters  have  been  broken. 
Do  not  let  these  snares  entangle  you.  A  sound,  healthy,  well- 
trained  body,  a  quick,  informed  and  thoughtful  mind,  a  conscience 
aware  of  its  relations  to  heaven  and  the  world,  a  heart  true  and  lov- 
ing— these  give  promise  of  the  coming  woman  in  our  own  days.  The 
whole  world  is  open,  as  never  before,  to  the  woman  who  will  simply 
be  true  to  herself  and  her  opportunity.  Instead  of  the  aimlessness  of 
too  many  vain  or  dreary  lives  in  the  past,  here  are  aims  as  many 
and  as  lofty  as  the  stars  in  the  heavens.  Let  one  noble  aim  possess 
you,  it  will  break  the  snares  that  may  hold  you  :  it  will  place  you  as 
a  jewel  in  the  diadem  of  the  Lord  Christ. 

Besides  the  paper  Edward  read  on  the  Jewish  question, 
he  preached  a  sermon  on  the  subject,  in  which  he  says  that 
"Christianity  must  be  offered  to  the  Jews,  not  as  the  nega- 
tion of  Judaism,  but  as  its  consummation." 

After  much  looking  about,  Edward  engaged  rooms  at 
Mrs.  Mason's,  414  Hoffman  St.,  not  far  from  the  old 
quarters.  On  January  15th,  1891,  he  went  to  Syracuse, 
preached  the  Dedication  sermon  for  the  new  Good  Will 
Church,  and  on  the  i6th  enjoyed  the  double  birthday  re- 
ception given  by  his  sister,  where  nearly  all  the  Syracuse 
ministers  and  their  wives  were  present.  As  requested,  he 
told  stories  and  sang  songs,  English,  Scotch,  German,  and 
among  them  a  comic  Irish  song,  which  caused  much  laugh- 
ter. This  was  Friday  evening,  and  at  12.00  he  and  his 
mother  took  the  midnight  train,  reaching  Baltimore  Satur- 
day afternoon,  where  he  introduced  her  to  what  he  called 
"our  Masonic  sky-parlor." 


382   REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


He  early  laid  his  plans  for  work,  announcing  sermons 
in  his  bulletin  for  several  weeks  in  advance. 

The  Christian  Conquest  of  Europe; 
Snares  for  Young  I^Ien ; 
Snares  for  Young  Women; 
Working  Hours  and  Holidays; 
Christian  Socialism; 
The  Modem  Jews; 
Modern  Jerusalem. 

The  bulletin  also  announced  that  ''on  Wednesday  even- 
ings, after  the  prayer  meeting,  there  will  be  in  the  pastors 
study  a  personally-conducted  tour  of  Palestine.  All  are 
invited  to  join  the  party." 

Not  long  after  we  were  settled  in  our  winter  quarters, 
a  young  man,  George  P.  jNIorris,  came  to  the  city  for  some 
special  studies  in  Johns  Hopkins  University.  He  engaged 
a  room  at  Mrs.  Mason's,  and  a  seat  at  Miss  Tyson's  table, 
and  proved  in  every  way  an  addition  to  our  circle.  He  ex- 
celled in  whistling,  and  by  his  skill  in  imitation  was  a  sort 
of  menagerie  in  himself.  All  this,  with  his  bright,  cheery 
ways,  were  particularly  appreciated,  while  I  was  a  shut-in 
from  sickness.  When  he  left  Baltimore  in  the  spring,  he 
became  one  of  the  editors  of  The  Congregationalist. 

The  following  letter  from  him  speaks  for  itself: — 

For  a  few  months,  early  in  1891,  I  was  a  resident  of  the  city  of 
Baltimore.  A  stranger  in  the  city,  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  bear 
a  letter  of  introduction  from  Dr.  Bradford  of  ^Nlontclair,  N.  J.,  to 
Mr.  Lawrence.  I  was  most  heartily  welcomed,  aided  in  finding 
pleasant  quarters  where  I  could  live  and  study,  and  instantly  made 
aware  that  I  had  met  an  unusual  personality. 

Frequently  enjoying  the  privilege  of  hearing  him  preach.  I  yet 
more  often  enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  practise,  and  it  is  of 
this  aspect  of  his  character  that  I  alone  feel  inclined  to  testify,  leav- 
ing to  others  who  knew  him  better  the  testimony  respecting  his 
gifts  as  preacher,  organizer  and  student. 

Never  did  a  mother  have  a  more  loving.  loyal  son.  and  my  heart 
first  went  out  to  him  because  he  was  just  so  loyal  and  loving.  Later, 
I  learned  that  he  was  as  wise  as  he  was  loving,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  I  came  to  see  how  complete,  how  symmetrical  a  manhood  he 
had.  Given  a  few  j-ears  more,  and  he  would  have  been  shaping 
events  in  more  than  a  local  field.  I  frequenth-  heard  him  mentioned 
as  a  man  pre-eminently  fitted  to  serve  as  secretary  of  the  American 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


383 


Board.  Then,  too,  he  foresaw  the  re-adjustment  that  the  church 
needed,  in  order  to  serve  the  present  age,  and  in  his  preaching  and 
his  living  he  was  a  pioneer  of  the  new  day  and  way. 

Intensely  alert  and  open  to  the  spirit  of  the  age,  sympathetic  with 
the  wage-earner  in  his  struggle  for  adequate  recompense  and  the 
good  things  of  life,  he  never  became  a  fanatical  sentimentalist,  a 
wholesale,  undiscriminating  assailant  of  a  class  that,  though  it  has 
its  faults,  owes  its  comfort  and  pleasures  more  to  thrift  and  foresight 
than  to  dishonesty  and  selfishness. 

While  sensible  of  the  faults  of  the  church  he  never  felt  it  necessary 
to  malign  it  in  order  to  reform  it.  To  be  concise,  he  impressed  all 
the  Johns  Hopkins  University  students,  who  heard  him  from  time 
to  time,  as  one  who  had  a  level  head  and  a  warm  heart,  each  aiding 
and  restraining  the  other. 

I  am  sad  when  I  think  of  the  loss  that  the  world  has  suffered  by 
his  departure,  for  he  had  the  spirit,  the  knowledge,  the  method  of 
discovering  truth  and  formulating  it,  that  would  have  made  him  a 
great  leader  in  the  century  just  dawning. 

I  am  glad  that  I  knew  Mr.  Lawrence  as  a  friend.  He  was  more  in 
my  life  than  I  can  express.  But  what  must  this  loss  mean  to  you, 
his  mother,  and  to  the  one  who  was  to  be  his  wife?  Life  brings  no 
bitterer  disappointment  than  hers.  Our  warmest  sympathy  goes  out 
to  you  both. 

Another  editor  of  the  Congregationalist,  Rev.  H.  A. 
Bridgman,  writes: — "In  a  pecuHar  sense,  he  belonged  to 
the  denomination,  and  he  was  just  coming  to  the  point  of 
his  greatest  usefulness.  It  does  not  seem  as  if  we  could 
spare  his  ripe  judgment,  his  courageous  grapple  with  prob- 
lems in  church  and  state,  and  his  unclouded  personal  faith.'' 

At  the  Washington  Conference  of  churches,  February 
17th,  1891,  Edward  gave  an  address  on  "Reading,"  from 
which  by  special  request  large  extracts  follow: — 

READING  AS   A   SOURCE   OF   PERSONAL  RELIGIOUS 

CULTURE. 

_  "The  colleges,"  writes  Emerson,  "whilst  they  provide  us  with 
libraries,  furnish  no  professors  of  books,  and  I  think  no  chair  is  so 
much  needed." 

This  chair  you  ask  me  for  a  few  moments  to  occupy.  So  I  will 
talk,  not  like  a  book,  but  like  a  reader  and  lover  of  books,  to  those 
who  also  love  and  read  them. 

How  shall  we  read?    What  shall  we  read?    When  shall  we  read? 

The  use  of  reading  for  this  object  is  mainly  that  of  food.  But 
here  begins  the  difficulty.  Practically  we  are  born  and  bred  in  the 
midst  of  libraries  in  our  homes  and  everywhere  else. 

Our  library  has  all  its  contents  for  use  as  food ;  some  is  medicinal 
and  remedial,  some  is  preventive  and  hygienic.  But  the  main  pur- 
pose of  this  whole  mental  dietary  is  nourishment.    Here  each  can 


384  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


find  his  own  if  he  only  knows  how.  But  all  need  much  help.  A  pro- 
fessor of  books  were  a  boon  to  every  household.  This  food  must 
be  selected  according  to  individual  needs.  It  must  be  appropriated 
according  to  nature's  demand  and  laws.  The  instinct  of  each  read- 
er is  a  guide  in  part;  experiment  also  teaches.  But  an  experienced 
friend  is  the  best  guide  to  tell  what  to  read,  how  to  read  it,  and 
what  to  let  alone.  And  the  crime  of  giving  a  child  free  range  in 
an  apothecary  shop  would  hardly  be  greater  than  the  crime  of  let- 
ting children  read  unhindered  and  unguided.  in  a  great  public 
library. 

This  assistance  of  friends  is  most  needed  for  the  purpose  which 
we  are  considering,  and  when  we  have  received  that,  we  may  well 
pray  for  the  Holy  Spirit  to  teach  us  how  to  read  as  well  as  how  to 
pray. 

How  then  shall  we  read  to  this  end? 

'"Some  books,"  says  Bacon,  "are  to  be  tasted,  others  to  be  swal- 
lowed, and  some  few  to  be  chewed  and  digested.''  It  is  this  last 
few  that  mainly  concerns  us  in  treating  this  subject.  A  few  of  these 
few  will  be  named  later. 

By  another  classification,  books  are  divided  into  literature  of 
knowledge  and  literature  of  power.    The  last  class  again  are  for  us. 

There  are  books,  once  more,  of  the  spread-out  harvest,  whose  grain 
must  be  threshed,  winnowed,  ground,  bolted  and  baked  ere  it  be- 
comes bread.  And  there  are  seed-grain  books  which  drop  into  the 
open  heart  and  expand,  grow,  flower  and  fruit  there.  These  seed- 
grain  books  are  what  we  mainly  want  for  our  soul's  development  and 
redemption.  When  we  have  found  the  right  class  of  books,  we 
shall  know  better  how  to  use  them.  But  for  our  personal  religious 
growth  it  is  plain  that  we  must  read  somewhat  after  this  manner : — 

Leisurely,  however  briefly ;  not  hurriedly,  with  that  hurry  and 
worry  that  gets  into  the  blood  and  the  conscience,  and  distorts  the 
view  for  the  True.  Good,  or  Beautiful. 

Meditatively,  with  a  hidden  inner  train  of  thought  that  binds  our 
author's  words  not  only  to  one  another,  but  to  ourselves  and  to  the 
world  about. 

Fruitfully,  with  many  a  germinant  thought  roused  to  life,  so  that 
at  its  stirring  we  put  the  book  aside  to  let  our  own  soul  have  free 
play.  Reading  is  often  a  shower  where  mere  drops  of  rain  awaken 
sleeping  seeds  of  grain. 

Sympathetically,  with  a  heart  not  only  open  to  the  author,  but 
open  to  God  and  the  world,  in  love  with  our  brother. 

I  might  say,  too.  that  we  should  read. 

Repeatedly,  coming  back  again  and  again  to  loved,  familiar, 
marked  passages,  until  they  are  wrought  into  our  blood  and  brain 
and  heart. 

Broadly,  mingling  with  divers  authors,  striving  to  get  the  secret 
of  each  rather  then  to  find  our  secret  everjnvhere. 

Progressively,  moving  on  from  stage  to  stage,  not  ever  swinging 
around  in  the  same  circle,  but  with  cumulative  power  and  growth. 
But  this  and  much  more  may  be  summed  up  by  saying  that  we 
should  read : — 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


Christfully.  Let  us  stand  at  the  very  center  of  our  world,  which 
is  Christ.  In  thought,  at  least,  we  can  do  that  as  we  read.  Then 
from  this  point  look  out  in  every  direction.  The  light  from  the 
center  shines  everywhere,  and  illumines  all  things. 

Now,  from  this  c^  -ter  describe  a  small  circle.  That  first  circle 
is  the  Bible.  Through  its  reading,  let  us  pass  to  all  other  reading, 
and  to  the  world. 

Now  describe  another  circle  just  outside  the  Bible.  Here  are  the 
choice  classics  of  the  soul,  the  sifted  treasures  of  the  ages;  tried, 
tested,  and  approved,  each  ministering  to  different  men  and  times, 
in  different  ways,  often  gaining  new  meanings  with  every  change,  and 
thereby  proving  their  own  richness.    .    .  . 

As  we  go  on,  the  path  broadens.  Biographies  are  choice  ministers 
to  the  spiritual  life.  The  communion  for  some  weeks  with  a  noble 
man  or  woman,  through  a  biography,  can  make  us  better. 

Devout.  God-seeing  works  of  science  must  do  the  same,  reveal- 
ing the  divine  structure  of  the  world.  Much  is  yet  to  be  written  in 
a  modern  line  to  carry  on  the  work  of  Hugh  Miller,  Chalmers, 
Mitchell,  and  Drummond. 

And  so  at  last  the  current  topics  of  the  day,  the  history  of  which 
we  are  a  part  and  which  we  help  make, — these  come  into  the  circle  of 
our  Christocentric  reading. 

Out  at  the  farthest  rim  the  best  magazines  and  daily  papers,  if 
read  in  the  same  spirit  as  the  others,  and  sufficiently  abbreviated, 
may  be  a  means  of  grace  and  growth,  whereby,  in  the  turbulence  of 
the  time,  we  discern  the  signs  of  the  coming  of  God's  Kingdom,  the 
power  of  his  redemptive  work,  and  so  learn  better  how  to  work  with 
him. 

This  brings  us  to  the  last  question,  one  very  important,  when 
shall  we  read?  Take  by  all  means  one  hour  of  the  twenty-four  for 
good  reading.  Hedge  it  in  against  all  encroachment.  Make  it 
sacred  for  yourself  and  for  others.  Divide  it,  if  necessary,  between 
morn  and  eve,  but  secure  it  every  day.  Read  the  Bible  one-half  of 
the  hour,  and  the  best  half ;  then  spend  the  other  half  in  this  careful, 
restful,  meditative,  Christful  reading,  not  "as  he  that  runs  may 
read."  nor  as  he  that  sleeps  may  dream,  but  as  he  that  thinks  may 
think  and  feel,  may  pray  and  see  visions  and  even  in  reading  begin 
the  doing  of  great  acts.  Add  hour  to  hour,  day  by  day.  That 
means  at  the  end  of  the  year  over  one  solid  fortnight  for  such  food. 
Some  of  the  time  read  aloud  in  communion  with  another;  but  read 
by  all  means. 

Busy  men  and  women  will  say,  "the  scheme  is  beautiful,  but  im- 
practicable; we  shall  never  find  time  for  it."  Try  it!  You  have 
not  time  to  neglect  it.  Start  at  first,  if  you  must,  with  but  thirty  or 
forty  minutes  a  day.  divided  into  periods  of  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes 
each,  at  different  parts  of  the  day.  Give  one  period  to 
the  Bible,  the  other  to  the  rest  of  the  list :  make  sure  of 
the  best  first,  omitting  the  newspaper  if  anything.  Have  a 
book  at  hand  for  odd  moments.  Beecher  read  scores  of  volumes 
by  keeping  an  open  book  on  his  toilet  table.  Carry  a  small  book 
in  your  pocket.    By  degrees  you  will  find,  if  you  persevere,  that  you 


386   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


are  wringing  one  hour  out  of  the  twenty-four  for  the  food  of 
your  soul.  Then  how  richly  will  the  rest  of  each  day,  shortened  by 
this  one  hour,  repay  us  with  lengthened  goodness  and  multiplied 
powers  and  graces  !  We  may  build  up  a  heaven  within  by  such  an 
hour  a  day. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

EDWARD'S    CONNECTION   WITH  SIGNIFICANT  MOVE- 
MENTS. 

When  to  be  a  Christian  is  to  be  a  missionary,  there  will  be  more 
Christians. — Rev.  Dr.  Alexander  Mackenzie. 

At  the  23rd  annual  meeting  of  the  Congregational  As- 
sociation of  New  Jersey,  April,  1891,  held  in  Philadelphia, 
Edward  gave  an  address  on  Christianity  and  Culture,  from 
which  a  passage  is  taken: — 

Science  touches  Christianity  occasionally,  and  culture  affects  it 
constantly.  The  end  of  Christianity  is  faith,  hope  and  love.  Culture 
is  but  nature  in  blossom.  The  relations  of  Christianity  and  culture 
are  such  that  one  is  simply  subsidiary  to  the  other.  The  great 
contest  is  between  life  and  death,  holiness  and  sin.  The  law  of  Chris- 
tianity is  service;  the  law  of  Paganism  is  self.  Self-culture  is  self- 
exhausting  and  antagonizes  Christianity.  Divine  culture  is  identical 
with  Christianity. 

During  the  winter  Edward's  mother  had  a  violent  attack 
of  the  grip.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  skill  and  the  ten- 
derness with  which  he  cared  for  her  day  and  night.  And 
when  she  began  to  gain,  he  would  carry  her  down  stairs 
and  take  her  on  a  short  walk,  and  then  carry  her  up  again 
to  her  room.    Early  in  May  she  left  for  the  North. 

Soon  after  he  writes: — "It  is  very  pleasant  to  occupy  your 
room,  the  Masonic  sky-parlor.  I  often  think  of  your  hard 
coughing  spells,  and  with  gratitude  that  they  are  over.  The 
winter's  experience  has  brought  us  closer  together,  and  I 
never  loved  you  so  much.  You  will  be  glad  to  know  that 
I  have  had  a  letter  from  our  German  friend,  who  says  he 
means  never  to  go  back  to  smoking.'' 

May,  1891. 

I  finished  James  last  Sunday  with  a  good  congregation,  making 
the  application  to  the  mechanics  of  the  present  day,  of  the  fourth 
verse  in  the  last  chapter, — "Behold,  the  hire  of  the  laborers  who  have 


388  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

reaped  down  your  fields,  which  is  of  you  kept  back  by  fraud,  crieth, 
and  the  cries  of  them  which  have  reaped  have  entered  into  the  ears 
of  the  Lord  of  Sabaoth."  I  claimed  that  men  may  be  innocent 
members  of  a  guilty  system. 

In  the  evening,  following  this  up,  my  sermon  was  from  the  text 
Ecclesiastes,  3  :  13.  "And  also  that  every  man  should  eat  and  drink 
and  enjoy  good  in  all  his  labor  is  the  gift  of  God;"  which  led  to  the 
consideration  of  the  Eight  Hours  day  movement. 

A  sentence  or  two  from  the  published  report  will  give  the 

substance  of  the  sermon: — 

It  is  an  appeal  for  the  re-distribution  of  leisure,  and  a  redemption 
of  the  laborer  from  a  human  machine  into  manhood.  This  is  the 
special  reason  why  we  should  favor  the  movement.  .  .  Let  the 
wage-earners  be  taught  the  democracy  of  Christianity  and  be  drawn 
into  a  true  brotherhood  of  the  divine  Carpenter.  The  eight-hours 
day  will  bring  this  noble  opportunity,  this  heavy  responsibility.  It 
is  for  the  church  to  redeem  the  new-won  time  and  ennoble  labor  by 
turning  the  mechanic  from  a  drudge  and  slave  into  one  worthy  the 
name  of  citizen,  husband,  father,  brother,  child  of  God.  Let  us 
favor  the  shortened  work  and  enrich  the  lengthened  leisure. 

Edward  enclosed  in  his  letter  some  printed  documents 
relating  to  the  Federation,  the  Pope  and  the  Hyper-Pope, 
thinking  they  would  amuse  us. 

From  these  clippings  it  seems  that  at  a  Federation  of  La- 
bor meeting,  one  member  pronounced  the  Pope's  com- 
munication "an  absolute  failure.''  Then  reading  the  report 
of  the  sermon,  he  thought  that  Baltimore  had  the  best  of  it 
over  Rome,  and  proposed  that  a  vote  of  thanks  should  be 
sent  Mr.  Lawrence.  This  aroused  another  delegate,  who 
considered  all  clerg>'men  as  policemen  in  the  hands  of  the 
capitalists.  "How  do  we  know  it  came  from  the  preacher's 
heart?"  Another  affirmed  that  not  one  in  twenty  clergy- 
men would  have  the  nerve  to  deliver  such  a  sermon,  mov- 
ing that  a  communication  be  sent  him,  expressing  the 
gratification  of  the  Federation  at  his  sentiments.  After 
some  additional  discussion,  the  motion  to  send  Mr.  Law- 
rence thanks  was  defeated. 

Later,  he  was  invited  to  be  present  at  a  meeting  of  the 
Nationalists,  where  "he  stated  that  whatever  he  may  have 
said  in  the  pulpits  which  pleased  the  club,  was  rather  the 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


389 


result  of  an  evolution  of  his  mind  than  any  preconceived 
ideas.  He  felt  that  all  the  organizations  which  are  striving 
for  a  better  life  for  the  individual  or  for  society,  deserved 
encouragement.  At  the  conclusion  of  his  remarks,  he  was 
unanimously  elected  an  associate  member  of  the  club.'' 

I  suppose  our  experiences  agree.  When  some  new  truth  rises 
full-orbed  upon  us  in  all  its  light  and  beauty,  and  we  try  to  show  it 
to  others,  we  wonder  that  every  one  does  not  see  and  love  it  as  we 
do.  Yet  they  may  not  see  it  at  all,  or  only  by  degrees.  Then  we 
grow  impatient.  But  the  truth  must  work  its  way  gradually,  espe- 
cially the  Social  Gospel,  which  at  first  excites  apprehension  not  easily 
allayed. 

Baltimore,  June  15th,  1891. 

My  subject,  yesterday,  was  "The  Sabbath  was  made  for  man,  not 
man  for  the  Sabbath."    You  know  how  I  should  treat  it. 

Druid  Hill  Avenue,  right  next  us,  is  like  Babel  with  the  cable  cars 
rumbling  and  gouging  away.  But  it  is  an  immense  gain  for  travel. 
And  the  other  roads  must  follow  suit. 

Tuesday.  I  have  laughed  heartily  over  your  adventures  in  going 
from  Poughkeepsie  to  Northampton.  I  am  glad  you  are  visiting  our 
friends  there.  The  account  of  Miss  Arethusa  Hall's  last  days  is  very 
pathetic. 

Baltimore,  My  Study,  June  19th,  1891. 
I  have  been  anxious  about  you  in  the  extreme  heat,  and  want  to 
know  that  you  are  safely  home.  I  came  over  one  hot  night  and 
slept  comfortably  in  the  church.  .  .  Mr.  P.  still  holds  out  in  his 
tobacco  abstinence,  and  seems  to  think  that  settled.  So  you  have 
much  to  be  thankful  for. 

June  29th. 

What  glorious  weather !  Clear,  cool,  beautiful,  perfect  June  days  I 
And  the  harvests  are  something  wonderful  this  year.  Another  fine 
walk  of  twelve  miles,  Saturday,  brought  me  up  in  fine  condition. 
The  last  of  the  illustrated  sermons  for  the  summer  came  last  night. 
I  am  carefully  reviewing  old  and  new  ground  and  writing  my  mis- 
sion lectures. 

July  5th. 

We  have  had  two  superb  days.  The  air  has  had  in  it  a  tinge  of 
the  Adirondacks,  and  the  sky  a  touch  of  the  woods.  Yesterday  I 
fell  in  love  with  Druid  Hill  Park.  I  had  admired,  but  not  appre- 
ciated it,  had  seen  it  empty,  or  shunned  it  full.  But  being  invited 
to  picnic  out  there  with  the  Nunns  and  others,  I  went  about  noon. 
Thousands  of  people  were  scattered  over  the  lawns  and  among  the 
trees,  but  there  was  room  for  all  and  in  privacy.  We  lunched, 
played  football,  and  had  a  good,  boyish,  girlish  time  generally.  .  . 
Sunday  morning  I  preached  with  a  joyful  heart  on  Christian  joy. 
In  the  afternoon,  I  spent  some  time  with  the  gospel  wagon  just 
built.  We  visited  two  market  places  and  one  rolling  mill,  having 
services  in  all.    I  am  hopeful  of  much  good  from  the  movement. 


390  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


By  request,  Edward  wrote  an  article  for  the  Congrega- 

tionalist,  entitled  "The  Gospel  on  Wheels.'' 

This  is  how  the  gospel  wagon  does  it.  At  three  o'clock  every 
Sunday  afternoon  a  little  company  gathers  at  the  old  chapel  of  the 
Associate  Reformed  Church.  A  few  moments  are  spent  in  prayer, 
then  the  band  of  perhaps  a  dozen  men  climbs  into  the  wagon.  Four 
fine,  dappled-gray  horses  are  ready  to  draw  it.  "Gospel  Wagon"  is 
painted  in  large  letters  along  both  sides.  Six  hundred  dollars  was 
the  cost  of  building  it.  No  one  who  sees  it  can  ever  mistake  it  or 
forget  it. 

All  aboard  !  We  rumble  slowly  along  over  the  rough  Baltimore 
pavements,  through  the  main  streets,  out  into  the  residence  sections, 
on  to  important,  scantily  churched  districts.  The  first  appearance 
of  our  wagon  in  any  part  of  the  city  causes  sensation.  It  is  its  own 
advertisement.  The  passers-by  stop  and  gaze.  Whole  families  rush 
to  the  front,  flatten  noses  against  the  window  panes,  stand  agape  in 
the  doors,  swarm  over  the  doorsteps.  Whenever  it  slackens  pace 
children  dangle  after  it  like  the  tail  to  a  kite.  Its  very  presence  ap- 
peals more  than  a  church  bell  or  a  newspaper  notice.  Novelty  and 
curiosity  become  our  allies. 

At  certain  points  we  stop  to  take  in  additions  to  our  own  com- 
pany. Now  it  is  a  couple  of  ministers  into  whose  diocese  we  are 
entering.  Then  it  is  a  quartette  of  male  singers  who  give  their 
Sunday  afternoons  to  this  work.  Again  it  is  three  young  men  who 
praise  God  on  instruments  of  brass.  A  cabinet  organ  and  organist 
are  already  in  the  wagon. 

Then  there  is  a  stop  for  a  song.  Children  rush  in  like  steel  fil- 
ings to  a  magnet,  and  their  elders  gather  with  them.  The  preaching 
place  is  announced,  all  are  invited  to  follow,  which  the  greater  part 
do.  One  more  singing  stop  is  made.  Our  retinue  ever  accumulates. 
At  last  we  roll  up  to  the  first  station.  Perhaps  it  is  a  market  square. 
Our  service  has  been  previously  made  known  throughout  the  neigh- 
borhood. Loiterers  are  already  hanging  about  the  place ;  others 
speedily  arrive  as  the  singing  begins.  They  stand  and  sit  under 
shelter  of  the  market  roof.  A  section  of  one  side  of  the  wagon  is 
let  down  for  a  platform.  Sheets  of  gospel  songs  are  distributed 
among  the  crowd.  All  are  invited  to  join  in  the  singing.  One  or 
two  of  our  number  station  themselves  in  the  audience  to  keep  the 
children  quiet.    Often  a  policeman  is  at  hand  with  the  same  intent. 

If  we  might  only  have  kodak  views  of  our  hearers  to  show  to 
our  churches  through  lantern  slides !  Children  of  every  age,  nation- 
ality and  feature ;  women  quiet,  well-dressed,  ladylike ;  others  wild, 
frowsy,  unwashed,  unkempt,  scornful — shall  I  say  God-forsaken? 
No,  for  the  gospel  wagon  is  here  and  they  are  here.  Men — clerks 
spruce  and  dapper,  laborers  rough  and  attentive.  One  cannot  begin 
to  describe  these  unforgotten  faces.  It  seems  almost  as  if  we  were 
back  in  India  itinerating  through  heathen  towns.  But.  of  course, 
the  assembly  varies  in  different  districts.  Each  service  lasts  about 
one  hour,  at  the  close  of  which  the  wagon  rolls  on  to  its  next  station, 
which  may  be  a  mile  or  two  away. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  39I 

The  work  of  the  gospel  wagon  is  union  work  entirely  independent 
of  any  church,  association  or  army,  though  it  depends  upon  all  for 
aid,  financial  and  spiritual,  and  seeks  to  ally  itself  with  all.  A  few 
determined  men.  Friends,  Baptists,  Methodists,  Presbyterians,  etc., 
have  formed  the  nucleus.  There  is  nothing  in  the  work  to  disturb 
any  refined  susceptibility,  except  the  looks  of  many  of  those  to  whom 
the  gospel  is  preached.  Decorum  and  earnestness  rule  in  all  the 
proceedings.  It  is  a  bit  of  fresh,  real  work  which  serves  a  Christian 
purpose.  It  lays  the  touch  of  the  hand  of  Christ  on  the  heart  of 
the  masses.  It  must  fix  the  grasp  of  that  hand  on  some  otherwise 
lost  lives.  Why  should  not  the  gospel  wagon  roll  on  in  every  city 
as  a  chariot  of  the  Lord  and  of  victory? 

Baltimore,  July  6th,  1891. 

My  Dear  Young  Mother: — 

I  think  in  some  things  you  may  need  bossing. 
I  want  to  hear  whether  you  are  gaining  your  old  strength.  How 
good  it  will  be  to  get  you  home  again !  I  will  have  you  out  on  the 
water. 

I  am  reading  Francis  Abbott's  Scientific  Theism  with  much  inter- 
est. .  .  George  Meredith  is  called  the  Browning  of  novelists. 
Diana  of  the  Crossways  is  a  great  book  and  you  must  read  it.  The 
old  clock  has  just  left  for  Marblehead. 

Edward  had  for  a  long  time  been  looking  out  for  an  an- 
cient clock  for  the  stairway  of  Linden  Home,  and  had  at 
last  succeeded  in  purchasing  one,  as  a  Christmas  present 
for  his  mother. 

In  August  he  writes  from  Gloversville: — 

Mr.  Stetson  met  me  and  I  am  with  the  dear  old  friends,  only 
Lawrence  is  away.  Mrs.  Cook  is  as  bright,  and  Mrs.  Stetson  as  love- 
ly as  ever.  Soon  after  seven  we  met  Jonathan,  healthy,  hearty,  full 
of  fun.  My  new  haversack  is  in  fine  condition,  and  off  we  go  at 
nine  to-morrow. 

As  to  your  letters,  I  want  the  best  of  them,  time  or  no  time.  I 
hope  you  are  continuing  the  selection,  for  even  if  not  pasted  in, 
others  can  do  the  pasting. 

Mosley's  Hotel,  Lake  Pleasant,  Aug.  sth,  1891. 

My  Dear  Mother:— 

Our  woods  are  about  us  again.  Such  a  quiet, 
restful,  satisfied  feeling  as  they  give.  The  balmy  touch  of  nature 
is  on  every  faculty.  It  reaches  deep  down  into  the  centre  of  being. 
My  fortnight  visit  home  was  short,  sweet  and  helpful.  The  bonds 
of  love  tighten  as  we  go  on.  When  we  had  reached  Newton  Corn- 
er, I  inquired  about  our  unexplored  route  to  Fulton  Chain.  "Why, 
you  are  one  the  wrong  side  of  the  woods,"  said  Mr.  Sturgess,  the 
veteran  of  the  region.  "How  can  we  get  there?"  "Go  to  the  big 
Indian  Clearing.  I  have  been  there  five  hundred  thousand  times.  It 
takes  three  days  to  get  there." 

In  Camp  on  Cedar  Lake,  7  P.  M.  Thursday,  Aug.  6th,  1891. 

At  last  we  are  fairly  in  the  woods.  Mine  host,  Sturgess,  is  a  won- 
derful man.    He  reminds  one  of  Siegfried  in  Wagner's  opera,  a 


392   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


splendid  Teuton  child  of  the  gods  with  an  air  of  eternal  youth.  At 
six  this  morning,  he  waked  us.  What  a  breakfast !  Trout,  venison, 
pancakes  and  maple  sugar.  Then  all  our  goods  were  packed  and 
our  guide  appeared, — John  Sturgess,  another  of  the  Walhalla  heroes 
— but  a  huge  Hercules.  We  reached  here  in  good  season,  and  are  in 
fine  shelter  for  the  night  in  a  covered  bark  camp.  We  have  supped 
on  venison  and  pork,  have  read  a  chapter  in  All  Sorts  and  Conditions 
of  Men,  and  shall  soon  be  asleep.  The  mosquitos  are  raising  their 
nightly  chant.  .  .  Stillwater,  Aug.  gth.  I  never  suffered  so  much 
as  last  night  from  the  gnats.  All  the  audacity  and  pertinacity  of 
the  flea  with  worse  poison.  They  steal  under  everything.  Now  a 
sting  at  the  ankle,  then  a  crawl,  and  stings  around  the  knee,  then 
at  one  thigh,  then  at  the  other  thigh,  then  down  the  other  leg,  but 
alas,  not  out  at  the  shoe. 

Old  Forge,  Aug.  12th. 

Tuesday  was  the  great  day.  Our  guide  left  us  early,  and  we 
started  to  go  alone  on  the  trail  to  Panther  Lake,  where  panthers 
used  to  abound,  and  where  now  two  wolves  roam.  After  an  hour 
we  found  two  gum  pickers,  who  gave  us  all  the  privileges  of  their 
camp.  They  come  into  the  woods  for  spruce  gum,  which  they  scrape 
from  the  trees,  selling  it  when  cleaned  for  about  seventy-five  cents  a 
pound.  They  gather  six  or  eight  pounds  a  day  and  make  on  an  aver- 
age about  $2.00  on  this.  A  small  tin  can  with  sharpened  lip  put  on 
the  end  of  a  long  pole  is  their  only  tool.  And  all  the  chewing  gum 
of  school  girls  comes  in  this  way. 

Tuesday  was  our  great  day.  Our  guide  having  left  us,  we  started 
alone  on  the  trail  to  Panther  Lake,  and  having  shored  around  it, 
came  to  Little  Moose.  But  here  our  troubles  began.  The  lake  is 
three  or  four  miles  long.  To  shore  it  would  be  all  day  work,  get- 
ting around  logs,  swamps,  etc.  Shots  and  cries  failed  to  bring  re- 
sponses. We  must  shore  it,  or  raft  across  a  deep  bay  which  would 
land  us  near  the  trail.  So  to  work  we  went  to  construct  a  raft. 
Five  or  six  large  logs  would  be  enough,  eighteen  feet  long,  eight  or 
nine  inches  thick.  Spruce  floats  lightest  and  was  here  in  abund- 
ance. Mr.  Hall  did  most  of  the  chopping,  being  experienced  in  the 
art.  Our  two  pound  axe  was  most  useful.  When  the  great  logs 
had  been  cut,  they  had  to  be  slowly  worked  by  levers  down  to  the 
water.  Then  we  took  all  the  straps  from  our  packs  and  bound  the 
logs  to  cross  pieces  at  each  end.  Spruce  brush  piled  across  gave  a 
safe  foundation  for  our  packs.  From  ten  till  three  we  worked  at  it 
like  beavers. 

By  an  experiment,  we  found  that  the  raft,  with  all  the 
packs,  would  just  float  one  of  us,  but  not  both.  Then  a 
small  birch  tree  was  cut  flat  at  the  end  into  a  double  paddle  and 
a  board  laid  across  for  a  seat.  Next  we  donned  the  primitive  cos- 
tume of  Adam,  save  that  Mr.  Hall  wore  a  hat,  which  I  suppose 
Adam  did  not.  Seated  thus  on  the  log  raft,  all  our  packs  and 
clothes  behind  him.  slowly  paddling  across  the  lake,  he  was  an 
amusing  picture  of  Robinson  Crusoe.  After  he  had  gone  some  dis- 
tance, I  sprang  into  the  water  and  swam  after,  reaching  him  just 
as  I  needed  rest.  Then  he  plunged,  and  I  became  Palinurus.  When 
we  had  changed  back  and  forth  until  we  reached  a  favorable  point. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


393 


and  had  enough  of  a  swim,  we  landed  beside  a  great  rock.  The  raft 
was  taken  apart,  our  packs  reconstructed,  ourselves  civilized,  and 
around  the  shore  we  went.  But  it  was  growing  late.  The  trail  did 
not  appear.  Between  six  and  seven,  we  reached  a  sandy  beach,  be- 
side a  brook,  under  fine  balsam  trees.  Here,  we  said,  we  must 
camp.  It  is  too  late  to  find  the  trail.  We  soon  had  a  fire.  There 
was  no  bread,  but  we  had  pork,  half  a  can  of  corned  beef  and  a 
piece  of  maple  sugar.  But  no  dishes.  We  toasted  the  pork  with 
wooden  forks  and  ate  from  the  forks,  then  dived  into  the  beef  can 
with  a  pocket  knife,  and  lastly  munched  our  maple  sugar.  Now  it 
began  to  sprinkle,  then  to  rain,  then  to  pour.  It  grew  dark,  and 
still  it  poured.  No  cover  for  any  thing,  like  two  owls  we  sat  under 
the  great  trees.  At  five,  the  camp-fire  blazed  briskly ;  then  came  the 
conflict  between  fire  and  water,  till  the  blaze  went  out.  Our  rub- 
ber clothing  was  wrapped  around  the  blankets  and  could  not  be 
touched,  or  they  would  be  drenched.  For  a  time  the  great  trees 
served  as  umbrellas,  but  at  last,  they  began  to  drip.  Heaven's  ar- 
tillery roared  and  flashed  over  the  lake  and  through  the  forest.  We 
were  wet  to  the  skin.  The  fire  went  out. 

It  was  nine  o'clock.  No  cover  for  our  head,  no  fire,  little 
food,  no  possibility  of  getting  along  in  the  forests,  where 
we  had  no  trail.  Those  moments  were  the  most  dismal  of  our 
Adirondack  experience.  We  were  in  for  a  night,  and  what 
a  night !  Then  very  slowly  the  storm  diminished.  We  got  my 
rubber  blanket  over  our  heads,  separating  the  waters  above  from 
the  waters  beneath,  and  keeping  the  wind  from  the  Siamese  twins. 
Then  a  little  human  assistance  enabled  fire  to  overcome  water  and 
it  began  to  blaze  again.  We  spread  the  rubber  on  the  wet  ground 
near  the  fire,  my  blanket  next,  and  my  rubber  coat  over  all.  We 
dared  not  lie  down  long,  but  how  we  dozed  over  the  fire.  How  we 
watched  for  the  morning  light !  At  last  it  came.  We  breakfasted 
as  we  had  supped,  then  started  on  the  tramp  through  the  woods,  wet, 
oh,  so  wet,  in  search  of  the  trail.  Many  misleading  paths  we  found 
and  rejected,  but  at  last  we  struck  it,  and  then  a  shout!  That  is  so 
about  the  ways  of  truth.  You  may  be  deceived  by  many  false  paths, 
but  when  the  open  eye  sees  it,  there  can  be  no  doubt.  Three- 
quarters  of  a  mile  brought  us  to  First  Lake.  There  stood  a  boat 
waiting  to  be  used.  We  used  it.  Rowed  across  to  a  house  near  by, 
asked  for  a  boat  to  return  it  with,  and  then  ate  our  breakfast  like 
starved  men,  and  dried  ourselves  by  the  kitchen  oven.  We  were 
rowed  down  here,  and,  to  our  delight,  we  found  the  Nannie  O. 
washed  and  fitted  out.  .  .  Our  hard  work  is  over.  The  rest  is 
along  familiar  tracks. 

Camp  Craig,  Big  Moose  Lake,  Aug.  19th,  1891. 
This  lake  fascinates  us.  We  intended  to  leave  to-day,  but  cannot 
do  it,  and  linger  on.  There  is  no  pleasanter  camp  in  the  woods,  no 
finer  spot  on  the  lake.  For  once  our  restless  steps  are  held,  and  our 
course  swings  round  and  round  this  center.  We  know  and  like 
everybody  here. 

We  are  continually  on  the  water,  unless  tramping  through  the 
woods.  Every  day  has  its  excursion,  every  hour  its  delight.  At 
sunset,  to-night,  we  floated  on  the  mirror.    It  was  like  one  of  Turn- 


394  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


er's  water  scenes, — soft,  shadowy  outlines, — no  land,  sky  or  water, 
but  everywhere  shadows.    These  are  wonderful  days  to  us. 

We  have  just  counted  our  Adirondack  songs,  and  find  that  we 
have  thirty-two  in  all. 

Dart's  Camp,  Second  Lake,  Aug.  20th,  1891. 
My  Dear  Wallace: — 

I  send  the  picture  of  a  boat  made  for  you  by 
Mr.  Hall.  A  man  is  under  the  boat.  That  man  is  Uncle  Ned.  The 
boat  is  Nannie  O.,  named  for  your  mamma.  Uncle  Ned  is  carrying 
her  through  the  woods.  Isn't  that  good  of  Uncle  Ned?  But  Nan- 
nie O.  will  carry  Uncle  Ned  through  the  lakes.  So  she  is  a  good 
boat.  Sometime  I  hope  you  will  take  a  ride  in  her.  How  would 
you  like  to  sleep  out  of  doors,  under  a  tree,  with  a  fire  at  your  feet 
and  a  rubber  blanket  above  and  beneath  you?  That  is  what  we  call 
camping  out.  Ask  mamma  to  take  you  down  into  the  garden  and 
show  you  how  to  camp  out.  Now  be  a  good  boy  and  write  Uncle 
Ned  a  letter. 

Your  loving  Uncle. 

My  Dear  Sister: — 

.  .  .  It  is  in  motherhood  that  one  learns  how  charac- 
ter counts  for  more  than  all  else.  Training  a  child  is  mainly  a  ques- 
tion of  character  in  the  one  training  and  the  one  trained.  .  .  All 
the  clearness  and  strength  and  decision  that  have  been  gained,  tell 
here.  All  the  yieldings,  weaknesses,  defeats,  leave  their  mark  here.  A 
mother  cannot  be  to  her  child  more  than  she  is  in  herself.  Where- 
ever  she  is  uncertain  or  vacillating  or  disloyal,  the  weakness  will  ap- 
pear in  her  intercourse  with  her  child.  Wherever  she  has  overcome 
herself,  she  will  be  able  to  overcome  him  by  mere  force  of  character. 
There  is  no  place  where  simple  character  tells  for  more  than  in  the 
contact  of  a  mother  with  her  child.  She  cannot  will  more  than  she 
is,  and  what  she  is,  she  can  impress  on  her  child. 

Chattalane  Springs  Hotel,  Sept.  i8th,  1891. 

Dear  Mother:— 

How  you  would  enjoy  this  beautiful  country!  Such 
superb  oaks,  chestnuts,  etc.  It  is  most  romantic  and  all  within 
twelve  miles  of  Baltimore.  I  had  no  idea  there  was  such  scenery 
so  near. 

Sept.  15th. 

This  afternoon  I  have  seen  a  tilting  tournament  of  young  knights. 
About  a  dozen  entered  the  lists,  mounted  on  beautiful  horses.  Car- 
riages full  of  people  lined  both  sides  of  the  course.  The  tilt  was 
not  at  one  another,  but  at  ivory  rings.  Three  of  these  were  hung 
along  the  course,  two  or  three  rods  apart,  and  fixed  at  a  certain 
height.  When  the  knight's  name  was  called  by  the  master  of  cere- 
monies, he  spurred  his  horse  upon  the  track,  couched  his  lance  and 
aimed  straight  in  a  full  gallop  for  the  rings.  If  he  caught  each  of 
the  three  upon  his  spear  in  the  same  run,  he  was  successful.  When 
I  say  that  the  rings  were  only  an  inch  and  a  half  in  diameter,  and 
that  they  rode  as  swiftly  as  possible,  you  will  see  the  difficulty. 
Yet  six  of  them  caught  the  three  rings  three  times  in  succession. 
Then  they  put  in  rings  an  inch  wide  which  cut  the  knights  down  to 
five.    Then  three-quarters  of  an  inch  rings,  and  only  one  knight 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  395 


took  the  three.  He  was  the  victor.  Think  of  catching  three  small 
rings  on  the  spear  at  such  a  pace. 

This  evening  at  the  hotel  comes  the  Coronation  ball,  when  the 
victor  will  crown  some  lady  as  queen. 

What  a  contrast  to  another  scene  to  which  my  mind  turns ! ! — my 
sad  visit  with  Harriet  Doolittle,  who  is  a  wreck  of  her  old  dear  self. 
In  her  mental  distress  she  has  little  concern  about  her  health.  When 
she  goes  it  will  be  a  happy  release.  I  talked  and  prayed  with  her, 
and  it  was  a  comfort  to  be  told  by  her  mother  that  I  had  done  her  "a 
world  of  good." 

I  am  greatly  interested  in  what  you  write  about  Mr.  Bliss,  and 
shall  hope  to  know  him.  The  Wendell  Phillips  Union  looks  prom- 
ising. 

As  Edward's  mother  had  not  quite  recovered  from  the 
effects  of  the  grip  he  arranged  to  have  her  pass  a  month  at 
Lakewood,  at  Dr.  Gate's  Sanitarium,  on  her  way  to  Balti- 
more. 

Baltimore,  Oct.  ist,  1891. 
I  wish  you  were  here  with  me  now.    And  how  I  wish  T  could  be 
with  you  on  the  way !    But  we  must  trust  to  a  kind  providence  and  to 
your  mother-wit.    I  think  you  can  safely  go  on  the  Fall  River  boat. 

Oct.  9th. 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  have  your  letter  from  New  York.  Guardian 
angels  as  usual  on  every  hand,  and  new  friends  made.  Our  troubles 
are  only  the  dust  by  the  way.    God  is  good  and  we  are  his  children. 

Oct.  13th. 

I  am  glad  your  treatments  are  begun  and  shall  hope  for  great  ben- 
efit. My  love  to  the  Gates.  A  pleasant  dedication  on  Sunday  of  our 
new  church  at  Canton.    I  give  my  first  lecture  at  Yale,  Oct.  22nd. 

New  Haven,  Oct.  23rd. 

At  Prof.  Day's.  I  arrived  in  a  rain,  and  it  pours  now,  which 
diminished  my  audience.  But  the  students  were  all  there  and  several 
of  the  professors.  This  evening  a  mission  band  from  the  Seminary 
and  one  from  the  College  are  to  come  in. 

The  Congregationalist  says  of  Edward's  Yale  lectures  on 

Missions: — 

The  work  in  China,  Japan  and  India  has  been  shown  with  such  de- 
finiteness,  the  daily  life  and  methods  of  the  missionaries  have  been 
set  forth  in  such  a  plain,  concrete  way,  that  students  have  learned 
better  than  ever  before  just  what  are  the  needs  and  nature  of  the 
foreign  work.  Dr.  Munger  does  the  lecturer  the  honor  of  saying 
that  his  was  the  most  interesting  course  he  has  ever  listened  to  in 
Marquand  Chapel. 

In  his  closing  lecture,  Mr.  Lawrence  urged,  as  among  things  most 
needed  to-day,  a  missionary  periodical  to  study  the  fields  scientif- 
ically and  comprehensively,  presenting  readers  with  a  better  insight 
into  the  problems  and  lines  of  work  abroad  than  fragmentary  bits  of 
information  can  give;  frequent  tours  by  our  managing  secretaries, 
made  for  inspection ;  an  active  participation  by  the  churches  in  the 


39^  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


management  of  mission  work  that  will  lead  them  into  discussions 
and  knowledge  of  the  exact  nature  of  this  work.  This  will  make 
contributions  other  than  a  blind  handing  over  of  money  to  be  used  in 
a  good  cause,  and  gifts  will  increase  as  they  are  more  intelligently 
given. 

On  train,  Thursday.  I  spent  a  pleasant  night  at  the  Utleys,  who 
are  very  cordial  and  agreeable. 

On  his  return  from  New  Haven  after  his  last  lecture  he 
passed  a  night  at  Dr.  Gate's  Sanitarium,  taking  his  mother 
the  next  day  to  Philadelphia,  and  leaving  her  for  a  little 
visit  with  her  new  friends,  the  Plummers,  of  whom  he  was 
glad  to  have  a  glimpse,  which  led  to  a  very  pleasant  ac- 
quaintance. 

Eciward  and  his  mother  passed  the  winter  in  McCulloh 
St.,  nearly  opposite  their  good  temperance  and  anti-to- 
bacco Quaker  friends,  the  Tudors  and  Primroses,  of 
whom  they  saw  much. 

A  habit  which  simplified  Edward's  pastoral  labors  was 
that  of  making  a  record  of  all  his  calls,  and  adding  particu- 
lars as  to  any  sickness,  affliction,  or  absence,  thus  keeping 
himself  informed  of  the  condition  of  the  various  individual 
members,  both  of  the  church  and  parish.  And  he  kept  him- 
self informed  of  the  business  condition  of  the  church,  above 
all  things  desiring  to  keep  out  of  debt. 

It  was  his  custom  to  give  series  of  sermons,  announcing 
them  in  advance  in  his  bulletins  or  on  special  circulars.  At 
one  time  it  was  a  series  of  prominent  Bible  characters. 
From  the  report  of  a  sermon  on  "Isaiah,  the  statesman  pro- 
phet," a  passage  is  given:  "The  Old  Testament  is  the 
Statesman's  Manual.  The  study  of  Isaiah  is  practically  the 
study  of  Hebrew  politics.  The  secular  press  of  to-day  is,  in 
some  senses,  the  natural  successor  of  the  old  prophets,  and 
sometimes  has  more  courage  than  many  religious  journals. 
Isaiah  was  the  morning  paper." 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


397 


SPRING   AND   SUMMER  EVENING   SERMONS,  APRIL- 
JUNE,  1891. 

April    5. — The  Loveliness  of  Christ. 
April  12. — What  is  it  to  be  Lost? 
April  19. — Jonah  and  Nineveh. 

April  26. — Footsteps  of  Jesus  in  Judea. — Illustrated. 

May     3. — Lessons  of  the  Spring. 

May    10. — The  Gains  of  Sorrow^. 

May    17. — Working  Hours  and  Holidays. 

May    24. — Not  far  from  the  Kingdom. 

May    31. — Footsteps  of  Jesus  in  Galilee. — Illustrated. 

June    7. — God's  Use  of  Lowly  Things. 

June  14. — The  Lord's  Day. 

June  21. — Atmospheres. 

June  28. — Footsteps  of  the  Apostles. — Illustrated. 

'  Another  series  of  evening  sermons,  some  of  which  were 
illustrated  with  lantern  slides: — 

Japan — The  Land  of  the  Rising  Sun. 
Land  and  People. 
Religions  and  Missions. 
Illustrated  Japan. 

China — The  Celestial  Empire. 
Land  and  People. 
Religions  and  Missions. 
Illustrated  China. 

Edward  gave  an  annual  reading  from  some  poet, — 
Browning,  Lowell,  Whittier  and  others,  for  the  benefit  of 
some  benevolent  society.  A  daily  reports  the  reading  of  ia 
number  of  Sidney  Lanier's  poems  at  a  meeting  of  the  mis- 
sion circle  of  Christian  Endeavorers: — "Mr.  Lawrence's 
reading  showed  both  a  fine  elocutionary  ability  and  an  in- 
telligent conception  of  the  beauties  of  the  Maryland  poet's 
lines." 

The  Alphabetical  sociables  were  continued,  and  always 
excited  much  interest. 

Baltimore,  Jan.  isth,  18^2. 

My  Dear  Birthday  Roslein : — 

I  well  remember  in  that  house  in  Front 
St.,  how  I  was  longing  for  you  when  you  came.  And  how  you  used 
to  trot  off  to  the  neighbors  at  Dingle  Side.   Dear  me !    What  would 


39^    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


the  doctor  do  if  you  were  as  much  of  a  gadabout  now  ?  There  come  up 
so  many  birthdays — the  one  in  Berlin,  in  Poughkeepsie,  and  the  one 
last  year  in  Syracuse.  .  .  I  hope  every  fresh  year  will  bring  you 
fresh  courage  and  fresh  strength  for  fresh  burdens.  Let  us  keep 
above  the  weather  and  not  get  under  it.  Keep  a  quiet  corner  in  the 
heart  where  you  can  withdraw  and  have  unmolested  communion 
wih  the  Good.  Let  no  one  steal  peace  from  you,  for  no  one  can  give 
it  back  again.  Let  us  live  the  life  of  faith,  as  seeing  Him  who  is  in- 
visible and  resting  on  his  support.    .  . 

Your  loving  brother. 

Dear  Ned : — 

What  a  little  bit  of  a  fellow  it  was  to  be  sure,  who  came 
to  us  so  many  years  ago ! — you  say  forty,  but  I  don't  believe  it. 

Well,  the  infant  preacher  has  held  fast  to  his  baby  predilections. 
And  the  "little  uddy"  so  sympathetic  in  his  mother's  loneliness  is 
now  her  stay  and  her  staff. 

How  much  of  your  life,  at  various  periods,  have  the  mother  and  the 
son  been  together!  Those  days  of  companionship  began  when  papa 
was  over  the  seas  and  far  away,  and  you  used  to  send  up  to  the  good 
Father  your  daily  petition,  "Don't  let  papa  tip  over." 

Your  sermons  in  those  days,,  those  descriptive  of  your  journeys 
and  the  practical  addresses  to  your  admiring  flocks,  interested  me 
every  whit  as  much  as  those  of  both  sorts  do  now.  But  I  am  glad 
you  don't  carry  out  your  old  plan  of  taking  all  your  people  to  church 
in  an  omnibus,  and  preaching  to  them  papa's  sermons.  For  excellent 
as  they  are,  I  don't  believe  your  people  would  be  quite  satisfied  with 
any  minister  who  did  not  give  them  original  productions.  You 
might,  however,  on  a  single  occasion  read  one  of  papa's  best  sermons, 
telling  them  you  did  so  that  they  might  know  him.  That  would  be 
an  excellent  thing  to  do.  and  would  I  am  sure  interest  them  all. 

But  I  may  as  well  stop  short  for  I  can't  even  begin  to  say  what  is 
in  my  heart.  If  I  should  do  that  it  would  be  a  downright  love  let- 
ter. 

Your  birthday  mother,  to  bring  to  mind  that  Jan.  i6th,  1892,  is 
a  memorable  anniversary. 

A  few  words  are  given  from  a  paper  read  by  Edward, 
January,  1892,  before  the  N.  J.  Association  held  in  Wash- 
ington, and  which  was  pubHshed  in  the  Congregational 
Index. 

HOME  VERSUS  FOREIGN  MISSIONS. 

The  one  aim  of  all  mission  work  is  to  preach  the  Gospel  and 
plant  the  Church  of  Christ  wherever  entrance  can  be  found.  Christ 
is  Lord  of  all  lands,  and  everywhere  at  home.  From  the  Christian 
standpoint  no  land  is  foreign  and  no  people  alien.  There  is  no  Jew 
or  Greek,  no  Chinese  or  African  in  Jesus  Christ. 

He  lived  once  in  Nazareth,  but  his  Spirit  moves  through  all  the 
world,  and  he  claims  all  kingdoms.  There  is  but  one  divine  King- 
dom on  earth.  In  the  true  sense,  the  whole  world  is  Christendom. 
Christ  claims  it  as  his  own.  .  .  Much  of  our  mission  work  is  ter- 
ritorial, directed  from  the  centers  of  Christendom,  itself  lying  on  the 
outskirts.   These  missions  are  churches  in  the  making,  not  yet  inde- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  399 


pendent,  but  on  the  way  to  be,  and  none  the  less  ours.  Colonial  or  ter- 
ritorial, as  we  may  choose  to  call  them,  no  missions  in  the  wide  earth 
are  foreign  to  the  Church  of  Christ. 

It  is  only  in  the  lower,  human,  national  sense  that  other  people 
than  our  own  are  called  foreigners.  But  in  the  church,  the  highest, 
broadest  relations  dominate.  There  is  but  one  family,  though  many 
wanderers  and  rebels.  All  men  are  brothers.  All  missions  of  the 
church  are  home  missions. 

On  April  20th,  1892,  Edward  read  a  paper  before  the 

New  Jersey  Association  from  which  a  single  passage  is 

given : — 

PROPORTIONATE   AND   SYSTEMATIC  GIVING. 

In  our  Church  Beneficence  we  need  a  method  which  shall  train 
men  to  habits  of  giving  and  to  a  character  that  delights  m  giving. 
What  is  that  method?  Once  for  all  we  must  say,  there  is  no  one 
best  method  any  more  than  there  is  zr\y  one  best  stove  or  best  type- 
writer. We  can  only  find  the  best  under  all  the  circumstances.  Any 
system  is  better  than  none.  The  test  of  a  system  as  of  any  ma- 
chine is  that  it  works.  But  several  things  are  important.  It  should 
be  easy  of  comprehension  and  without  dependence  on  the  caprice  of 
pastor  or  people.  It  should  work  in  the  rain  as  well  as  sunshine,  in 
vacation  as  well  as  term  time,  in  absence  as  well  as  in  presence.  It 
should  enlist  the  children  as  well  as  the  parents,  should  gather  in  the 
little  as  well  as  the  large  gifts.  It  should  be  educative  and  wor- 
shipful, economical  of  time  and  cost,  and  efficient  in  meeting  the 
needs  of  the  work. 

May  13th,  1892. 

Dear  Mother: — 

Dr.  Spalding  and  Dr.  Ecob  are  grand  men  whom 
one  likes  to  see  come  to  the  front  in  these  times.  .  .  .  Send  me  your 
Ol>cn  Tobacco  Letters  when  they  are  ready  and  I  will  gladly  look 
them  over.  As  to  being  over-sensitive,  only  the  dear  Lord  can  help  in 
that.    Take  good  care  of  my  mother,  even  if  she  is  not  quite  eighty. 

The  returns  are  coming  in  from  our  New  Jersey  circular,  and  I 
think  there  are  signs  of  a  great  movement  towards  re-organization. 
It  is  only  a  question  of  time. 

As  friends  have  desired  to  know  the  particulars  of  Ed- 
ward's connection  with  the  changes  in  the  American  Board 
the  following  account  is  given: — 

One  of  Edward's  special  objects  in  London  was  to  study 
the  management  and  methods  of  the  different  Missionary 
Boards.  On  his  journey  round  the  world  he  had  met  Mr. 
Wigram,  secretary  of  the  Church  Missionary  Society,  who 
was  on  one  of  his  visitations  to  its  various  missions.  It 
gave  him  great  pleasure  to  renew  this  intercourse  in  Lon- 


400  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


don,  where  he  had  many  conversations  with  him  and  with 
the  secretaries  of  other  boards  on  missionary  matters.  His 
convictions  on  certain  points  were  strengthened  by  these 
investigations,  and  after  his  return,  in  March,  1890,  there 
appeared  in  successive  numbers  of  The  Christian  Union, 
two  articles,  under  the  heading, — "Shall  wc  rc-organize'^'' 
From  these  articles,  a  few  passages  will  be  given: — 

The  question  of  the  reorganization  of  the  American  Board  is  be- 
fore the  Congregational  churches.  Long  in  the  air,  it  has  now 
landed  on  the  carpet.  It  has  assumed  a  definite  shape  and  large  di- 
mensions. It  calls  for  thought,  discussion,  action.  It  will  down  only 
at  some  final  decision  by  the  churches.  The  resolutions  of  the  Na- 
tional Council,  the  utterances  at  the  meeting  in  New  York,  the  circu- 
lar sent  out  by  the  Committee  of  Fifteen  to  all  contributing  churches, 
and,  still  more,  the  intrinsic  needs  of  the  situation — these  all  conspire 
to  press  the  issue. 

It  is  a  question  neither  of  theories,  nor  of  persons,  nor  of  parties; 
not  even  of  "wings."  The  two  points  at  stake  are  simply  these :  What 
form  of  organization  will  be,  for  the  present  and  the  future,  the  most 
creative  and  the  most  expressive  of  mission  sentiment  at  home? 
What  form  will  be  the  most  effective  for  mission  work  abroad  ?  The 
sound  basis  of  progress  lies  in  comparison.  In  this  time  of  recon- 
sideration the  methods  and  processes  of  other  similar  societies  will 
be  found  most  instructive.  In  suggesting  the  comparative  study  of 
other  mission  organizations,  the  writer  hopes  to  make  some  slight 
contribution  toward  that  final  wisest  settlement  for  which  all  are 
longing. 

In  this  comparison,  Edward  states  that  of  all  the  living 
missionary  societies,  the  oldest  is  the  Society  for  the  Propa- 
gation of  the  Gospel  in  Foreign  Parts,  founded  in  1701,  its 
original  charter  being  granted  by  William  the  Third.  And 
this  he  found  to  be  the  only  society  among  them  all  in 
which  the  managers  were  constituted  into  a  close  corpora- 
tion with  a  perpetual  succession,  the  society  still  remaining 
a  strictly  self-perpetuating  body. 

In  contrast  with  this,  he  speaks  of  the  CJiitreh  Missionary 
Society,  quoting  from  its  enactments : — 

"XI.  The  Committee  shall  consist  of  twenty-four  lay  members  of 
the  Established  Church  of  England  or  of  the  Church  of  Ireland,  and 
of  all  clergymen  ivho  arc  members  of  the  Society,  and  have  been  so 
for  not  less  than  one  year.  Of  the  twenty-four  lay  members  eight- 
een shall  be  reappointed  each  year  from  the  existing  Committee, 
and  six  shall  be  elected  from  the  general  body  of  the  Society." 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  401 


The  italics  are  ours.  The  writer  has  found  a  large  number  of  de- 
vout, earnest,  efficient  men  assembled  at  the  weekly  meeting  of  the 
Committee  at  the  Church  Missionary  House  in  Salisbury  Square.  It 
brings  the  responsibility  of  mission  work  straight  home  to  each  mem- 
ber when  every  one  knows  that  he  can  at  any  time  drop  into  the 
meeting  of  the  Committee  and  by  his  vote  directly  affect  the  decision 
of  affairs.  This  spirit  of  liberty  within  favors  the  spirit  of  liberality 
without. 

The  writer  has  seldom  seen  efficiency,  liberty,  fraternity  and  piety 
so  combined  as  in  the  work  and  workers  of  this  Society,  whether 
in  England  or  in  Asia. 

In  October  of  the  same  year,  1890,  the  annual  meeting  of 
the  American  Board  was  held  at  Minneapolis.  From  Ed- 
ward's account  of  this  meeting,  published  in  the  Baltimore 
American,  the  following  extracts  are  given: — 

It  was  a  most  significant  moment  when  President  Northrup  of 
Minnesota  University,  the  moderator  of  the  last  National  Council,  in 
a  few  well-chosen  words,  reminded  the  Board  that  they  had  not  yet 
paid  heed  to  the  unanimous  vote  of  that  Council,  asking  all  Con- 
gregational societies  to  bring  themselves  into  nearer  and  representa- 
tive relations  to  the  churches,  and  urging  them  to  improve  the  remain- 
ing two  years  before  the  next  Council  to  comply  with  that  demand. 

There  was  no  such  glow  of  mission  enthusiasm  about  the  meeting 
as  one  used  to  expect.  But  the  plain  fact  was  that  the  Board  stood 
in  the  midst  of  a  morass.  The  only  way  to  get  a  stable  footing  was 
to  plunge  through  the  swamp  at  whatever  cost  of  discussion  and  dis- 
turbance. The  swamp  seems  to  be  passed  over  and  a  higher  level 
attained.  Now  the  world  will  look  to  see  this  great  body  of  Chris- 
tian people  lay  aside  speculations  and  suspicions,  hair-splitting  ma- 
noeuvering  and  bickering  and  apply  themselves  with  a  royal  good- 
will to  the  work  of  sending  Christian  men  and  women  to  preach  the 
Gospel  in  all  lands. 

It  was  only  a  month  later,  at  the  annual  meeting  of  the 

New  Jersey  Association  in  Washington,  November  i8th, 

1890,  that  Edward  introduced  the  subject  so  near  his  heart. 

In  the  report  of  the  meeting  is  the  following  minute: — 

On  motion  of  Rev.  Dr.  Lawrence  it  was  voted  that  a  committee  of 
three  be  appointed  by  the  conference  to  request  the  General  Commit- 
tee of  the  New  Jersey  Association  of  Congregational  churches)  to  ar- 
range in  the  program  of  its  next  meeting  for  a  twenty  minutes  dis- 
cussion of  the  question  of  the  relation  of  the  churches  to  the  Ameri- 
can Board,  and  also  that  the  same  committee  present  the  subject  be- 
fore the  association.    The  moderator  appointed  as  such  committee : 


402   REMINISCENCES  OF  -THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


At  the  next  meeting  of  the  N.  J.  Association,  in  Phila- 
delphia, April,  1891,  the  following  memorial  prepared  by 
Edward  was  presented: — 

A  crisis  in  missions  is  upon  us.  The  opportunity,  the  demand,  the 
promise  for  the  evangelization  of  the  world  were  never  so  great  as 
now.  But  the  church  lags  and  sleeps.  Both  men  and  means  fall 
short.  Retrenchment  is  the  talk  of  the  hour,  instead  of  enlargement 
and  multiplication.  The  noble  history  and  achievements  of  our  be- 
loved American  Board,  the  rich  and  abundant  fruit  already  won,  the 
appeals  of  the  Secretaries  and  Missionaries,  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
student  volunteers,  the  rapid  growth  of  many  other  Foreign  Mission 
Societies,  the  marvellous  providences  of  God — all  these  have  failed  to 
draw  an  adequate  response  from  the  Congregational  churches,  or  to 
press  home  upon  them  a  full  sense  of  their  responsibilities. 

For  this  delinquency  many  general  causes  may  be  assigned.  One 
reason,  however,  is  by  many  believed  to  lie  in  the  need  of  a  more 
truly  representative  relation  of  the  American  Board  to  the  Congrega- 
tional churches.  The  organization  found  well-suited  to  the  begin- 
nings of  the  mission  work,  is  believed  to  be  inadequate  to  the  needs 
of  to-day.  There  is  a  growing  desire  that  our  Foreign  Mission 
work,  instead  of  being  relegated  to  a  close  corporation,  should  be 
held  in  the  hands  of  the  churches,  so  that  those  whose  work  it  is 
shall  be  directly  represented  in  the  counsels  and  control  of  that  work, 
making  the  source  of  supplies  and  the  source  of  authority  the  same. 
With  the  full  responsibility  for  the  management  and  enlargement  of 
the  work  resting  directly  and  consciously  upon  them  and  their  chosen 
representatives,  there  would  be  fresh  hope  of  an  unhindered  revival 
of  the  mission  spirit  in  all  our  churches. 

That  some  such  re-organization  of  the  American  Board  is  to  be  de- 
sired was  clearly  declared  by  the  last  Congregational  Council,  when 
it  gave  "its  opinion  in  favor  of  steps  which,  in  due  time,  will  make 
the  said  societies  the  representatives  of  the  churches."  A  committee 
was  appointed  to  consider  the  relations  of  these  societies  to  the 
churches,  and  instructed  to  "communicate  to  the  churches  through 
the  public  press  the  results  of  its  inquiries  and  deliberations  at  as 
early  a  date  as  possible." 

But  the  emergency  presses  the  question,  and  the  labors  of  the 
Board  Committee  on  this  subject  have  had  no  result.  The  response, 
or  lack  of  response,  made  to  them  indicates  along  with  a  great  desire 
for  change,  also  hesitation,  ignorance  or  apathy  concerning  the  sub- 
ject. There  is  need  of  calm,  intelligent  discussion  of  the  whole  ques- 
tion by  the  pastors  and  laymen  in  their  various  associations. 

In  this  belief,  the  Washington  Conference  of  churches  has  ap- 
pointed this  Committee  to  memorialize  the  Associations  of  New 
Jersey  upon  this  subject.  We,  therefore,  respectfully  suggest  as 
follows : 

That  a  Committee  of  five  be  appointed  by  the  Moderator  to  corres- 
pond with  both  the  State  and  local  Associations  throughout  the 
country,  asking  them  to  secure  the  discussion  at  an  early  day,  in  their 
respective  gatherings,  of  the  following  topic:  "Representation  of  the 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


churches  in  the  government  of  the  American  Board  as  one  condition 
of  a  revival  of  the  Mission  spirit;"  said  discussion  to  be  had  with 
direct  view  to  such  practical  steps  as  may  in  every  case  seem  wisest. 

The  recommendations  of  this  Memorial  were  unani- 
mously adopted,  a  committee  of  five  appointed,  and  a  Me- 
morial was  sent  out,  from  which  extracts  are  given: — 

To  the  scribes  of  Congregational  Associations  and  to  the  pastors  of 
Congregational  churches : 

Dear  Brethren :  At  the  meeting  of  the  Congregational  Associa- 
tion of  New  Jersey,  held  in  Philadelphia  April  ist  and  22d  ,1891,  a 
memorial  was  presented  from  the  Washington  Conference,  which  re- 
lated to  the  reorganization  of  the  American  Board,  in  such  a  way  as 
to  make  it  directly  representative  of  the  churches. 

We  deem  the  present  moment,  when  harmony  prevails,  an  oppor- 
tune season  for  conducting  our  inquiry,  and  therefore  ask  your  co- 
operation in  securing  a  full  and  candid  consideration  of  the  subject. 

What  the  association  of  New  Jersey  would  ascertain  is  this : 

Do  the  churches,  as  represented  in  their  various  associations,  after 
full  discussion  and  deliberation,  believe  the  present  method  of  organ- 
ization of  the  Board  as  a  "close  corporation,"  a  self-perpetuating 
bodj%  to  be  in  harmony  with  our  Congregational  principles,  on  the 
one  side,  and,  on  the  other,  to  be  best  suited  to  enlist,  express  and 
develop  the  interest  and  co-operation  of  the  churches  in  missionary 
work?  Or  do  they  deem  it  important  that  such  a  change  should  be 
made  as  to  bring  the  Board  into  closer  official  relation  to  its  constitu- 
ency and  make  it  thoroughly  representative  of  the  churches  ?. 

As  a  means  of  learning  the  will  of  the  churches,  we  respectfully 
suggest  the  appointment  in  each  association  or  conference,  both 
state  and  local,  of  some  one  to  read  a  paper  on  this  topic  at  the  next 
meeting  of  such  body,  and  that  such  recommendations  for  action  be 
presented  as  may  seem  most  appropriate,  full  time  having  been  al- 
lowed for  discussion.  We  respectfully  request  the  scribes  and  regis- 
trars of  these  various  bodies  to  aid  in  securing  this  result,  and  the 
committee  solicit  a  response  from  them  and  from  any  others  inter- 
ested in  this  undertaking,  indicating  the  aid  we  may  expect  in  ac- 
complishing the  object  for  which  we  have  been  appointed. 

Baltimore,  January,  26th,  1892. 

In  the  Report  of  the  annual  session  of  the  Congrega- 
tional Association  of  Massachusetts,  held  in  Springfield,  in 
May,  1892,  is  found  the  passage  which  follows: — 

"It  is  perhaps  worth  remembering  that  the  Board  was 
created  by  the  General  Association  of  Massachusetts,  and 
was  for  some  years  made  up  of  delegates  appointed  by  this 
body  and  by  the  General  Association  of  Connecticut,  and 
that  the  delegates  held  their  ofifice  only  for  a  single  year.'' 


404   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


It  thus  appears  that  what  Edward  so  earnestly  advocated 
after  a  long  and  careful  study  of  the  subject  abroad  and  at 
home,  was  virtually  a  return  to  the  original  administrative 
principle  of  the  American  Board. 

The  associations  were  not  slow  in  responding  to  the  ap- 
peal sent  them  from  the  New  Jersey  Association  and  at  the 
meeting  of  the  Board  at  Worcester,  the  next  year,  October 
loth,  1893,  there  came  petitions  from  all  over  the  country 
for  a  representation  of  the  churches  in  the  government  of 
the  American  Board.  As  the  happy  result,  a  resolution 
was  introduced  which  led  to  the  change  so  earnestly  de- 
sired. 

The  26th  annual  meeting  of  the  N.  J.  Congregational  As- 
sociation, which  Edward  had  expected  to  be  in  his  own 
church,  was  held  in  East  Orange,  April  17th,  1894.  Dr. 
Creegan,  who  was  present,  said  that  the  churches  of  that 
association  should  particularly  feel  their  responsibility  to 
the  cause  of  foreign  missions,  because  it  was  largely 
through  their  efforts  that  the  Board  now  more  nearly  rep.- 
resented  the  churches. 

In  reply  to  an  inquiry  as  to  his  remarks,  Dr.  Creegan 
wrote,  "I  spoke  a  few  earnest  words  in  recognition  of  the 
splendid  service  rendered  by  your  son  for  the  American 
Board  towards  introducing  the  resolutions  two  years  ago, 
which  resulted  in  the  revolution  that  took  place  at  the 
Worcester  meeting.'' 

From  the  report  of  the  corresponding  secretary  of  the 

Association  Rev.  Dr.  Patton,  now  of  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  the 

following  passage  is  taken: — 

Dr.  Lawrence  was  noted  for  his  activity  in  our  midst.  He  was  in 
favor  of  making  the  association  count  for  something  positive  in  our 
states,  and  in  the  denomination  at  large.  It  was  mainly  at  his  sug- 
gestion and  instigation  that  the  Washington  Conference  placed  be- 
fore us  at  our  annual  meeting  in  1891,  the  famous  American  Board 
Memorial,  which,  being  sent  to  all  the  state  bodies,  resulted  in  that 
flood  of  similar  memorials  which  came  upon  the  Board  at  its  last 
meeting;  and  there  is  no  doubt  but  what  the  consensus  of  state 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


opinion  expressed  in  that  way  was  the  main  factor  in  effecting  the 
happy  result  at  Worcester.  All  honor  to  the  man  who  had  the 
clear-sighted  courage  to  institute  such  a  movement  at  a  time  when 
contrary  ideas  were  strong  in  the  ascendency ! 

A  few  words  are  added  from  Dr.  Amory  Bradford  of 
Montclair,  N.  J.: — 

"Your  son  was  known  and  loved  by  every  one  in  our 
association.  We  all  felt  that  he  was  one  of  the  choicest 
and  best  of  men,  and  were  greatly  shocked  when  he 
left  us." 

In  looking  over  my  son's  papers  I  came  across  a  letter  to 
him  from  Rev.  Dr.  C.  W.  Richards  of  Philadelphia,  from 
which  I  am  tempted  to  give  a  passage.  It  was  written 
Sept.  30th,  1892,  and  expresses  his  regret  that  he  could 
not  go  as  he  had  anticipated  as  a  delegate  to  the  National 
Council.  He  adds:  "You  are  my  alternate,  and  I  very 
much  hope  you  can  go.  You  are  the  fittest  person  of  the 
New  Jersey  Association  to  urge  and  to  guide  proper  action 
with  regard  to  the  Board.  You  know  more  about  the  mis- 
sions than  any  of  us,  have  written  more,  and  were  prime- 
mover  in  the  plan  to  get  pronouncements  from  the  State 
Associations.  Can  you  not  go  and  put  the  matter  through 
in  good  shape?  I  think  the  Council  will  be  ready  to  take 
some  decided  action  unless  the  Board  forestalls  it  by  tak- 
ing the  initiative,  which  is  not  unlikely." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

BALTIMORE    CONTINUED— THE     NORTH  CAROLINA 

TRAMP. 

"When  people  get  religion  right,  it  is  always  contagious." 

Ram's  Horn. 

The  second  annual  Convention  of  the  Maryland  Christian 
Endeavor  Union  took  place  on  January  21st  and  22nd, 
1892,  in  the  Baltimore  Associate  Reformed  Church.  On 
this  occasion  Edward  made  an  address, — The  World  for 
Christ.  The  treatment  of  this  great  theme  can  be  inferred 
from  the  first  paragraph. 

We  are  just  closing  the  first  century  of  modern  Protestant  missions. 
The  next  century  belongs  to  the  Christian  Endeavor  Societies,  and 
we  belong  to  that.  What  claim  does  it  make  upon  us  in  the  mission- 
ary work? 

The  bulletin  of  Feb.  iith,  1892,  which  Edward  prepared 
in  great  haste,  raised  a  smile  among  those  of  his  hearers 
who  glanced  over  it,  and  was  thus  chronicled  in  one  of  the 
dailies: — 

An  amusing  mistake  in  phraseology  crept  into  the  weekly  bulletin 
of  a  Baltimore  church,  the  other  day.  There  was  scheduled  on  the 
calendar  for  Tuesday,  Feb.  14th : — 

Washington  Conference  at  Canton  Congregational  Church,  10.30 
A.  M. 

The  Fourth  Annual  Meeting  of  The  Society  for  the  Suppression  of 
Vice  in  this  Church,  8  P.  M.  Now  if  it  had  been  arfvice  the  stranger 
within  the  gates  might  have  concluded  that  a  very  useful  and,  for 
some  localities,  an  extremely  desirable  organization  was  about  to  cele- 
brate its  anniversary. 

The  pastor  made  a  good  pun  by  way  of  an  apology  for 
the  "bull-let-in  to  his  bulletin." 

Edwin  Fairley,  whose  letter  giving  an  account  of  his  ac- 
quaintance with  my  son  in  Sing  Sing  has  been  given,  was 
now  a  student  in  Union  Theological  Seminary.    At  his 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  407 


suggestion,  Edward  was  invited  to  address  the  students  on 
Missions  in  Adams  Chapel. 

He  accepted  the  invitation  and  made  an  engagement  for 
March  2nd.  I  therefore  fixed  on  that  time  to  leave  for  my 
northern  home,  thus  securing  his  company  to  New  York 
and  also  the  pleasure  of  hearing  his  address. 

Mr.  Fairley  writes:  "When  Mr.  Lawrence  came  to  New 
York  I  entertained  him,  and  he  won  the  hearts  of  all  the 
students  at  the  club  where  I  boarded.  He  entered  at  once 
into  our  spirit,  told  stories  and  gave  reminiscences  of  his 
own  student  days,  and  was  the  life  of  the  table.  We  could 
not  help  contrasting  his  manners  with  that  of  some  other 
clerical  visitors  we  had  had.  One  of  the  students  who  had 
not  expected  to  attend  the  meeting  in  the  evening  changed 
his  mind  when  he  saw  what  manner  of  man  Mr.  Lawrence 
was. 

Concerning  this  address  Dr.  Dennis  writes: — 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  listening  to  your  son's  address  on  Missions, 
in  the  Adams  Chapel  of  the  Union  Theological  Seminary,  New 
York.  It  was  most  instructive  and  discriminating,  and  while  free 
from  all  extravagance  of  statement,  was  very  impressive  and  inspir- 
ing. His  grasp  of  the  subject  was  remarkable,  and  his  study  of  the 
practical  problems  of  missions  must  have  been  very  close  and  thor- 
ough. His  vision  of  the  real  significance  of  missions,  and  his  en- 
thusiasm concerning  their  ultimate  outcome,  were  based  upon  his  per- 
sonal observation  during  the  long  tour  he  took  through  the  great  mis- 
sion fields  of  the  world.  His  noble  book.  Modern  Missions  in  the 
East,  has  since  then  made  us  all  familiar  with  the  results  of  his 
studies,  and  yet  it  was  a  special  privilege  to  hear  him  personally 
speak  of  the  things  he  had  seen,  and  the  faith  he  cherished.  I  could 
see  that  the  young  men  of  the  Seminary  were  deeply  interested  in  his 
remarks. 

Baltimore. 

Be  sure  and  take  good  care  of  your  cold.  What  a  happy  winter  we 
have  had  together !  I  don't  see  where  it  has  gone.  I  shall  miss  your 
criticisms.  One  busy  week  is  through,  and  next  week  will  be  about 
as  busy.  Tuesday,  C.  O.  S.  meeting;  Thursday,  organize  church  at 
Monterey,  and  Friday,  Sidney  Lanier  readings. 

March  loth. 

When  this  reaches  you,  you  will  be  in  my  old  Ossinning  home 
among  the  dear  young  friends.  I  wish  I  could  be  there  with  you. 
Dr.  and  Mrs.  Dennis,  whom  you  met  at  Union  Seminary  that  night, 
and  who  were  my  good  hosts  and  nurses  at  Beirut  when  I  was  sick, 
spoke  of  having  visited  Sing  Sing  quite  recently. 


408    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


I  am  greatly  indebted  to  our  friends  for  their  kind  care  of  you,  and 
I  am  sure  they  feel  honored  in  aiding  so  distinguished  and  venerable 
a  young  woman. 

Your  friend,  Mr.  Bliss,  gave  a  good  address  on  Christian  Socialism 
last  night.  He  passed  the  night  with  me,  leaving  his  love  for  you. 
Remember  me  to  all  the  friends  at  Sing  Sing.  You  must  see  Mr. 
McWilliams'  lovely  parsonage.  And  be  sure  and  read  Dr.  Park- 
hurst's  second  sermon  in  the  Christian  Union  of  this  week. 

In  a  letter  Mr.  Bliss  says,  "I  only  met  your  son  twice, 
but  I  have  always  thought  of  him  as  a  pure  soul,  with  a  door 
open  to  the  sunrise;  ready  to  welcome  any  new  light,  yet 
with  so  much  heavenly  light  in  his  own  soul  as  to  be  as- 
tonished by  nothing  new.  Everything  new  seemed  but  a 
fresh  revelation  of  the  external  love  of  God  in  Christ.'' 

Baltimore,  IMarch  i8th. 

You  might  add  to  what  you  have  written  about  Ossinning  that  they 
have  the  advantage  of  three  military  schools  for  boys  in  the  vicinity, 
which  gives  the  girls  plenty  of  company,  and  keeps  the  teachers  wide- 
awake to  prevent  their  enjoying  it!  I  leave  on  April  4th  for  Beloit, 
and  have  engaged  to  spend  a  Sunday  at  Elgin,  111. 

That  illustrated  talk, — Round  the  IVorld  in  Eighty  Minutes,  given 
at  the  j\[t.  \'ernon  Church,  has  got  me  into  business,  leading  to  many 
requests  to  give  the  sam.e  elsewhere.  I  have  just  declined  three  in 
about  as  many  days. 

Sunday  afternoon  I  preached  at  the  Penitentiary,  and  nowhere  have 
I  found  a  more  attentive  audience.  Somewhat  more  than  half  of  the 
six  hundred  are  colored.  Almost  every  one  of  the  colored  men  sing 
and  the  choir  is  wholly  composed  of  them.  About  one  in  ten  of  the 
white  men  sing. 

What  society  has  to  do  is  to  make  the  best  possible  of 
them.  That  is  one  great  reason  for  having  our  penal  institutions 
educational  and  reformatory,  like  that  at  Concord.  You  remember  the 
school  for  idiots  we  saw  at  Schleswig.  Many  of  these  men  need  just 
such  treatment.  They  listened  well  as  I  talked  to  them  about  fight- 
ing the  good  fight  of  faith.  Next  November  the  Prison  Congress  meets 
here  and  it  will  be  a  great  occasion. 

Last  week  I  went  one  evening  to  see  Herrman,  the  great  Prestidi- 
gitator.   His  feats  were  marvellous,  and  I  wished  you  were  there. 

Mr.  Pangborn  is  back  and  full  of  his  trip.  He  saw  much  of  the 
Stuckenbergs  and  was  delighted  with  both  of  them. 

March  25th. 

This  is  one  of  Baltimore's  rare  days.  Winter  is  just  trembling  on 
the  brink.  It  will  give  us  one  more  pinch  and  then  be  gone.  My 
typewriter  gains  in  facility  every  day,  and  it  is  delightful  to  clip  along 
at  a  mile  a  minute.  Thanks  for  the  poem  which  is  fine  and  goes  into 
the  next  bulletin. 

You  will  see  from  the  bulletin,  April  3d,  what  kind  of  a  meeting  we 
had  last  Sunday  evening, — a  service  in  the  interests  of  Outdoor  Relief 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


in  Baltimore.  Not  till  it  was  through  did  I  realize  what  a  variety  we 
had.  On  my  platform  was  a  Roman  Catholic,  a  Congregationalist,  a 
Unitarian,  who  represented  the  C.  O.  S.,  a  Jew  and  a  Swedenborgian. 
Our  Hebrew  brother  joined  in  the  hymns,  and  I  heard  him  sing 
with  fervor, 

To  tend  the  lonely  and  the  poor 
Is  Christ-like  here  below. 

It  was  rather  a  remarkable  meeting. 

Beloit.  April  6th,  1892. 

Here  I  am,  dear  mother,  in  the  President's  study.  He  met  me  at 
the  station  with  his  carriage  and  two  of  the  children.  There  are  five 
in  all,  four  of  them  being  girls.  His  wife  is  a  lovely  woman,  and  the 
whole  home  and  family  very  attractive. 

On  the  train  from  Washington  a  gentleman  shared  my  seat.  We 
fell  into  conversation.  "Do  you  know  the  pastor  of  the  Congregational 
Church?  Jackson,  I  believe  is  his  name."  "Or  Lawrence,"  sug- 
gested I.  "Yes,  Lawrence.  Do  you  know  him?"  "Oh,  yes."  "My 
wife  met  him  when  he  was  in  Syracuse,  although  I  don't  know  him." 
"Yes,  he  was  a  pastor  in  Syracuse.  My  relations  with  him  have  been 
very  close;  in  fact,  I  am  the  man  myself."  "What!  What!  Why 
is  it  possible?"  And  then  we  both  had  our  laugh.  I  found  him  a 
very  pleasant  companion. 

Thursday.  Last  night  the  first  lecture  in  the  beautiful  new  chapel. 
An  excellent  audience  from  the  college  and  the  town,  among  whom 
was  my  old  friend,  Cycie  Hamlin  and  his  wife. 

Elgin,  111.,  April  loth,  1892. 

Yesterday  morning  I  left  Beloit  at  ten  and  in  forty-five  minutes 
reached  Rockford.  On  the  platform  was  Dr.  Walter  Barrows,  who 
took  me  first  to  their  grand  church  nearly  completed.  It  is  a  superb 
building  in  all  its  equipments.  Mrs.  Barrows  is  a  daughter  of  Dr. 
Jones,  our  district  secretary,  and  I  had  known  her  before. 

At  Elgin  a  Mr.  Davidson,  who  is  the  Deacon  Wiltsie  of  the  church, 
arranged  for  my  entertainment.  The  Elgin  watch  factory  has  3,000 
employes,  an  unusually  fine  class  of  operatives,  Americans,  Swedes, 
Swiss,  etc. 

Beloit,  April  12th,  1892. 
This  birthday,  dear  mother,  completes  a  fourscore  of  years.  Well, 
eighty  is  very  young  for  a  woman  like  you.    How  many  mercies  we 
have  all  had ! 

Baltimore,  April  17th,  1892. 

Here  I  am  at  my  typewriter  again.  I  enjoyed  meeting  President 
Eaton's  father  and  mother  at  Beloit.  She  is  enthusiastic  over  Light 
on  the  Dark  River,  and  he  over  father's  Life  of  Dr.  Hawes. 

I  spent  a  few  days  very  pleasantly  with  Cycie  Hamlin,  whose  wife 
is  a  fine  pianist  and  an  interesting  woman.  And  I  passed  a  delightful 
day  at  Professor  Blaisdell's.  I  hardly  know  a  man  whom  I  have 
come  so  quickly  to  admire  as  I  have  him.  .  .  One  evening  I  met 
the  volunteer  band  at  the  president's.  When  I  am  in  a  lovely  family 
like  his.  I  feel  how  much  of  life  I  lose  by  not  having  such  a  home  and 
family  about  me.  Indeed  in  going  from  the  Eatons  I  felt  like  leaving 
home. 


4IO  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


I  cannot  refrain  from  quoting  one  or  two  passages  from 
Beloit  letters. 

Wrote  Professor  Blaisdell,  who  has  since    joined  the 

goodly  company  across  the  river: — 

Your  son's  memory  here  is  very  precious.  He  came  amongst  us  a 
stranger,  but  both  Mrs.  Blaisdell  and  myself  became  very  strongly  at- 
tached to  him.  His  lectures  were  admirable,  and  we  rejoice  that 
they  are  to  be  put  into  permanent  form. 

Says  President  Eaton: — "It  is  a  joy  to  us  that  we  came 
to  know  your  son  so  well.  His  presence  will  abide  with  us, 
so  genial,  so  thoughtful,  so  keenly  observant,  so  regardful 
of  the  interests  and  pleasure  of  us  all,  so  loyal  to  his  Mas- 
ter's service,  so  full  of  faith  in  his  Kingdom!  How  pre- 
cious must  be  his  memory  to  his  mother  to  whom  he  was 
so  beautifully  devoted,  and  to  his  church  which  he  blessed 
with  his  pastoral  ministrations!" 

Baltimore,  April  17th,  1892. 

It  is  pleasant  to  be  at  home  again,  and  to  find  people  glad  to  see 
you.  In  my  birthday  letter  I  anticipated  your  fourscore  by  a  year.  I 
can  always  make  sure  of  your  age  by  the  sampler  you  have  worked 
and  which  has  hung  up  in  the  room.  I  very  much  want  your  crayon, 
and  if  we  don't  find  that  man,  we  must  seek  another. 

Jersey  City,  April  21st,  1892. 

I  am  here  at  our  New  Jersey  Association,  which  has  been  a  re- 
markable meeting.  I  have  just  been  talking  with  Dr.  Graham  Taylor, 
who  spoke  of  you.  Mrs.  Scudder  has  prepared  a  children's  catechism 
from  The  Tobacco  Problem.  She  is  at  the  head  of  the  Junior  En- 
deavor Work,  and  now  of  the  People's  Palace  Department  of  the  W. 
C.  T.  U.,  and  is  a  bright  and  beautiful  woman.  This  is  a  very  won- 
derful work,  and  is  worthy  of  all  study.  I  have  just  been  playing  15- 
ball  pool  with  two  other  ministers.  You  would  have  been  amused  to 
see  all  the  members  of  the  Association  playing  billiards  or  ten-pins  or 
pool  in  a  company  together. 

Baltimore,  My  Study,  May  ist,  1892. 

Seven  joined  our  church,  three  of  them  being  Johns  Hopkins  stu- 
dents, one  a  biologist  and  one  a  chemist.  It  was  as  interesting  as 
hopeful  to  hear  each  of  them  at  our  Committee  meeting  say  that  in 
Tiis  search  after  God  he  had  been  aided  by  his  scientific  studies.  This 
shows  what  is  now  the  trend  of  thought. 

On  Thursday,  I  was  at  Blue  Ridge,  and  organized  the  Hawley 
Memorial  Congregational  Church  with  nine  members.  Of  course  it 
was  a  delightful  occasion  for  Mrs.  Hawley.  The  month  of  April  has 
been  taken  up  with  a  variety  of  work,  but  all  has  prospered,  thanks 
to  the  guiding  Father.  I  feel  a  great  relief  in  the  accomplishment  of 
many  of  these  things,  and  great  gratitude  also.  At  the  beginning  of 
the  year  I  was  confronted  with  such  a  variety  of  work  to  be  done. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


411 


outside  as  well  as  home  work,  that  I  hardly  knew  where  to  begin. 
But  by  putting  away  all  anxiety,  and  just  taking  each  up  in  its  own 
time,  all  have  come  to  a  successful  accomplishment. 

Baltimore,  May  21st,  1892. 
Well,  you  did  get  on  your  high  horse  about  your  son.  And  you  did 
set  me  on  a  pedestal.  I  hope  that  the  right  arrow  may  find  the  right 
spot  some  day.  .  .  I  thought  of  the  memories  of  yesterday — (May 
20th,  my  wedding  day) — one  of  the  sweetest  of  all  the  anniversa- 
ries. .  .  I  am  glad  to  see  how  much  the  people  are  coming  to  like 
Mr.  Root,  who  is  a  fine  scholar  and  thinker  and  writer. 

Baltimore,  May  30th,  1892. 
The  missionary  meeting  at  Washington  last  week  filled  up  every 
moment.  I  called  on  Miss  French,  whom  I  used  to  know  at  Leipzig, 
and  whom  we  often  saw  in  Paris,  who  is  now  in  the  Bureau  of  Edu- 
cation, and  I  lunched  with  my  old  classmate,  Rawson.  .  .  I  wish 
you  could  be  here  to-morrow  to  attend  our  Ladies'  Day  at  the  Eclec- 
tic. As  it  is,  I  shall  go  alone.  Our  long  Saturday  afternoon  walks 
are  coming  on  again.  .  .  If  it  were  not  for  the  heat  which  you  feel 
so  much,  I  would  have  a  house  here.  I  think  very  much  of  you  in 
these  days.  There  is  nothing  equal  to  mother-love.  Are  you  taking 
outdoor  exercise  every  day? 

June  22d. 

What  interesting  news  from  Chicago !  The  same  history  over  again 
as  at  Minneapolis,  only  more  so, — the  people  against  the  bosses.  What 
a  hold  on  the  sentiment  and  imagination  of  the  Democratic  party 
Cleveland  has  attained !  I  am  delighted  that  so  far  Hill  seems  to  be 
stalled.  .  .  As  to  those  trials,  it  is  well  to  look  at  them  sub  spetia 
etcrnitatis  as  they  used  to  say.  Hereafter,  how  small  will  those 
troubles  seem  !    Then  why  not  gain  in  the  far  view  now? 

June  27th. 

Last  Friday  night  I  spent  with  Mr.  Belt  in  a  lovely  country  village, 
Belair,  in  some  Endeavor  work,  and  on  Saturday  morning  we  walked 
twelve  miles  on  our  return  to  Baltimore. 

My  morning  sermon  yesterday  was  from  the  text,  "His  eye  seeth 
every  precious  thing."  And  in  the  evening  I  gave  the  last  illustrated 
sermon  of  the  season. 

Some  of  Edward's  "Arrows,"  printed  in  the  Christian 
Union,  had  been  obtained  from  his  mother  by  Christian  En- 
deavorers.  In  the  bulletin  for  June  26th  an  explanation  ap- 
pears : — 

"The  pastor  would  express  his  appreciation  of  the  suc- 
cess of  the  Surprise  Committee  of  the  Y.  P.  S.  C.  E.  in 
gathering  up  arrows,  shot  by  him  some  years  ago,  and  in 
discharging  a  whole  quiver  full  of  them,  as  from  a  kind  of 
Catling  bow.  May  they  succeed  as  well  in  sending  them 
home  as  they  did  in  surprising  him!'' 


412   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Two  of  these  arrows  are  given: — 

Do  your  church  duties  cease  during  your  summer  vacation?  You 
spend  time  and  money  for  pleasure  in  your  summer  resort;  do  you 
spend  them  then  for  Christ  as  well?  Surely  the  church  interests  of 
a  place  should  not  be  the  last  to  be  benefited  by  your  sojourn. 

Tlic  best  things  are  nearest;  health  in  your  nostrils,  light  in  your 
eyes,  flowers  at  your  feet,  duties  at  your  hand,  the  path  of  God  just 
before  you.  Then  do  not  grasp  at  the  stars,  but  do  life's  plain,  com- 
mon work  as  it  comes,  certain  that  daily  duties  and  daily  bread  are 
the  sweetest  things  in  life. 

July  3d,  1892. 

I  met  Dr.  Harcourt  of  the  Grace  Methodist  Church  in  our  Free 
Summer  Excursion  last  Thursday, — the  colored  people's  day.  A 
great  storm  came  up  and  the  wind  and  rain  and  crash  and  flash  broke 
in  on  us  with  mighty  force  just  when  the  minister  was  preaching 
about  the  judgment  day.  "The  heavens  shall  be  opened" — then  came 
the  great  crash.  It  seemed  as  if  the  trees  would  be  snapped  in  two, 
and  the  roof  be  blown  off.  But  the  people  were  quiet,  though  thrilled 
with  the  majesty  and  terror  of  the  storm.  I  have  never  seen  anything 
like  it. 

Edward  occasionally  read  a  poem  in  connection  with  his 
preaching.  And  at  one  time  he  sent  his  mother  the  poem 
he  had  read  to  his  people  the  preceding  Sunday,  "The  Pass- 
ing of  "Christ,"  by  Richard  Watson  Gilder.  From  this  a  few 
lines  are  given: — 

Ah,  no  !    If  the  Christ  you  mean 
Shall  pass  from  this  time,  this  scene, 
These  hearts,  these  lives  of  ours, 
'Tis  but  as  the  summer  flowers 
Pass,  but  return  again. 
To  gladden  the  world  of  men.    .  . 

Behold  him  now  when  he  comes ! 

Not  the  Christ  of  our  subtile  creeds, 

But  the  light  of  our  hearts,  of  our  homes. 

Of  our  hopes,  our  prayers,  our  needs,    .    .  . 

Ah  no !    Thou  life  of  the  heart. 

Never  shalt  thou  depart ! 

Not  till  the  leaven  of  God 
Shall  lighten  each  human  clod; 
Not  till  the  world  shall  climb 
To  thy  height,  serene,  sublime. 
Shall  the  Christ  who  enters  our  door 
Pass  to  return  no  more. 

For  special  reasons,  Edward  had  been  induced  to  ac- 
cept the  appointment  as  president  of  the  C.  E.  Society  for 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


the  year.    He  writes: — "On  Wednesday,  about  twenty  of 

our  young  people  and  four  hundred  from  Maryland  go  to 

New  York  on  a  special  train  to  the  Convention.'' 

Baltimore,  July  loth,  1892. 
Well !  Here  I  am  back  again  after  the  rush  and  glory  of  the 
week.  If  we  could  but  make  you  see  it !  But  you  will  have  to  wait 
till  you  get  to  heaven  for  that.  It  is  something  to  carry  with  one  in- 
to the  loneliness  of  the  mountains, — this  colossal  gathering  in  which 
all  the  lions  of  the  arena  were  Christians,  and  all  the  Christians  lions. 
A  gladiatorial  display,  Olympic  games  and  military  review,  all  in  one, 
deploying  with  march  and  song  and  waving  of  banners  before  their 
Lord  and  King.  These  young  contestants  fairly  captured  New  York, 
as  they  had  already  captured  the  church.  And  with  their  cry, — "Tlie 
World  for  Christ,"  why  should  they  not  capture  that  as  well? 

From  the  sermon  that  Edward  preached  on  the  Conven- 
tion, the  next  Sunday,  the  following  passages  are  given: — 

This  is  a  movement  into  as  well  as  for  the  church.  Over  120,000 
Endeavorers  have  joined  the  church  during  the  year.  The  night  be- 
fore the  Convention  began  I  spent  with  Dr.  Edward  Beecher,  the  old- 
est of  the  Beechers,  at  his  home,  in  Brooklyn.  He  is  now  eighty-nine 
years  old,  and  was  full  of  intense  interest  in  the  new  thing.  "Do 
you  think,"  he  asked,  "this  is  going  to  take  the  place  of  the  old- 
fashioned  revivals  in  bringing  the  young  into  the  church?"  The 
figures  give  the  answer.  It  is  a  method  differing  from  that  of  our 
fathers. 

No  gathering  I  ever  attended  had  such  suggestions  of  the  possibil- 
ities before  our  youth.  There  seemed  nothing  they  would  not  be 
willing  to  undertake  for  the  good  cause,  nothing  they  might  not  hope 
to  do.  With  all  the  gladness,  there  was  everywhere  a  sweet  reason- 
ableness running  through  the  Convention.  And  under  the  aggressive- 
ness and  occasional  self-assertion  of  buoyant  life  there  was  a  quiet 
sense  of  power  and  trust  combined.  When,  a  day  or  two  later,  a  few 
hundred  Endeavorers  in  the  gallery  of  the  Stock  Exchange  broke  up 
business  by  their  mere  presence  and  gave  Wall  Street  the  unheard-of 
sounds  of  a  praise  meeting  in  that  place,  led  by  Wall  Street  brokers, 
it  was  but  a  hint  of  what  the  consecrated  youth  of  our  day  are  des- 
tined to  accomplish. 

Edward's  mother  had  invited  Lowry  Nunn,  who  was 
quite  worn  with  over-work,  to  pass  some  weeks  at  Linden 
Home.  So  she  came  there  from  the  Convention,  her  first 
visit  in  New  England. 

Edward  writes  home,  "You  are  perfectly  welcome  to  use 
all  of  that  cabinet  case,  putting  my  things  into  a  box,  you 
boxopholist.    I  leave  on  my  North  Carolina  trip  a  week 


414   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


from  to-morrow,  stopping  first  at  the  Lnray  Caves  and  Na- 
tural Bridge." 

July  27th,  1S92. 

The  last  sermon  has  been  preached,  the  last  adieux  said.  I  feel 
lonely  without  the  evening  service.  Every  year  it  grows  harder  to 
part  with  my  dear  people  for  the  vacation.  And  this  Endeavor  work 
has  brought  us  nearer  together.  Tell  the  ladies  the  flowers  from 
Linden  Home  stood  on  the  pulpit,  and  afterwards  were  distributed 
as  they  wished.  .  .  Be  sure  you  get  out  every  day  and  do  not 
work  too  hard. 

Edward  had  long  desired  to  travel  in  the  South,  and  con- 
cluded to  take  a  tramp  this  summer  in  the  mountains  of 
North  Carolina,  though  with  much  regret  that  Jonathan, 
his  Adirondack  companion,  could  not  join  him.  Many 
protested  strongly  against  his  plan,  urging  hot  weather, 
bad  roads,  bad  food,  inpassable  streams,  moonshiners  and 
rattlesnakes.  But  he  had  encouragement  from  Mr.  Belt, 
one  of  his  church,  whose  business  led  him  to  spend  much 
time  in  North  Carolina.  So  in  spite  of  these  warnings  he 
set  forth  in  his  vacation  to  go,  as  he  said,  "through  sky 
land  on  foot." 

When  his  tramp  was  ended  he  thus  sums  up  the  pro- 
tests:— 

The  report  I  bring  back  is  that  right  in  July  and  August  the  moun- 
tains of  Western  North  Carolina  offer  a  pedestrian's  paradise.  I  saw 
but  two  rattlesnakes  and  they  were  dead  booty.  ^Moonshiners  were 
either  not  visible,  or  not  recognizable.  The  streams  were  indeed 
swift  and  full  and  many,  but  there  was  always  provision  in  the  shape 
of  footlogs  or  swinging  bridges  or  footpaths  which  run  along  the 
stream  to  avoid  a  double  crossing  and  reach  the  sweetest,  shadiest  of 
nooks.  Once  I  found  m\-self  beside  the  Toe  river,  swift,  deep  and 
muddy.  But  at  my  call,  a  dug-out,  hewn  from  a  poplar,  shot  across 
from  the  opposite  side  and  took  me  over  in  safety.  Then  there  was 
the  romantic  little  ferry  boat  on  the  lovely,  embowered  Sv/annanoa. 
It  drew  back  and  forth  by  a  wire  from  either  side  at  the  will  of  the 
passenger,  and  was  claimed  to  be  the  only  ferryboat  on  the  river. 
Heavy  rains  might,  indeed,  swell  the  streams,  so  as  to  cause  delay. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  the  snake  fences  made  a  good  bridge 
through  the  flood  from  the  only  storm  experienced,  and  the  tramp 
went  on  his  way  up  the  mountain. 

Roads  were,  on  the  whole,  far  better  than  might  have  been  ex- 
pected, though  there  are  many  neglected  sections.  Virginia  has 
worse  roads  and  better  schools,  North  Carolina  worse  schools  and 
better  roads.    The  roads  made  by  the  Linville  Improvement  Com- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  4I5 


pany,  for  twenty  miles  about  that  place,  are  among  the  very  best 
mountain  drives  in  the  country.  The  Yonahlossee  drive  from  Lin- 
ville  to  Blowing  Rock,  running  twenty  miles  around  the  slopes  of 
Grandfather  Mountain,  is  to  be  compared  only  with  the  best  of  Swiss 
roadways. 

As  to  food,  there  was  always  an  abundance  of  what  was  palatable 
and  nourishing.  "We  will  give  you  the  best  we  have  got."  What 
more  can  one  ask?  Stringed  beans,  or  "snaps,"  boiled  with  pork, 
were  as  common  a  dish  at  that  season  as  any.  Chicken,  ham,  bacon, 
eggs,  apple  sauce,  potatoes,  hominy,  rice,  cornbread,  soda  biscuit, 
without  the  yellow  streaks  one  sometimes  encounters  in  New  Eng- 
land, blackberry  and  apple  pies,  preserves  and  jellies  of  various  sorts, 
delicious  milk,  and  buttermilk,  usually  called  "sour  milk,"  and  never 
to  be  sold,  but  always  given  away;  best  of  all,  the  purest,  coolest, 
freestone  water  gurgling  from  thousands  of  springs,  of  which  one 
may  lavishly  drink  without  fear,— who  can  ask  more  than  this,  espe- 
cially when  spiced  with  the  sauce  of  a  mountain  appetite?  One 
day,  about  noon,  I  applied  at  a  farmhouse  for  dinner.  "We  have  just 
finished.  If  you  can  take  what  we  had,  you  may  have  it  at  once.  If 
not,  the  woman  will  have  to  take  time  enough  to  get  you  up  a  din- 
-  ner."  "And  what  have  you  had?"  "Why,  we  are  all  fond  of  apple- 
grunter,  and  have  just  made  our  dinner  of  it."  "But  what  is  apple- 
grunter?"  "Why  bunglets  is  another  name  for  it.  It  is  a  kind  of 
apple  pie."  I  made  my  dinner  of  it,  too,  and  it  proved  to  be  the  old 
New  England  dish  "pandowdy,"  or  apple  pie  with  crust  and  apple 
intermingled,  and  drowned  in  the  richest  of  cream. 

Let  me  add  a  word  as  to  the  heat.  I  am  led  to  the  conclusion  that 
we  of  the  North  do  not  understand  the  climate  of  the  South.  The 
hottest  days  are  at  the  North.  The  sunstrokes  are  there  and  the  hot 
waves.  The  power  of  the  Southern  heat  lies  in  its  continuance,  and 
the  directness  of  the  sun's  rays.  But  the  whole  western  section  of 
North  Carolina,  not  to  speak  of  parts  of  Georgia,  Tennessee.  Ken- 
tucky, and  Virginia,  is  a  mountainous  plateau,  truly  called  the  "Land 
of  the  Sky,"  where,  from  an  average  level  of  two  or  three  thousand 
feer,  there  rise  forty-three  peaks  to  an  altitude  of  over  six  thousand 
feet,  twenty-three  of  which  are  higher  than  Mount  Washington, 
though  none  of  them  are  over  seven  thousand  feet.  Besides  this  an 
endless  number  of  peaks  and  ridges  and  ranges  and  table  lands  of 
lesser  elevation.  Everything  around  swells  and  rolls  and  billows 
away  in  multitudinous  mountain  grandeur.  For  four  weeks  I  slept 
but  once  at  an  elevation  less  than  two  thousand  feet,  and  most  of  the 
time  I  was  above  twenty-five  thousand  feet.  During  the  terrible  hot 
wave  that  prostrated  the  North,  the  shade-temperature  about  me 
never  rose  above  87  or  88  degrees,  being  at  least  ten  degrees  cooler 
than  the  rest  of  the  world.  In  this  mountain  air  there  is  not,  indeed, 
the  keen,  tonic,  exhilarating  tang  of  the  Adirondack  forests,  or  of  the 
White  Mountains.  The  impression  I  retain  of  the  whole  atmosphere 
is  of  a  soft,  velvety  coolness,  balmy  and  healing,  with  the  direct  rays 
of  the  sun  intense,  but  usually  fanned  by  cool  breezes,  and  softened 
by  cloud  and  shade.  In  Skyland,  as  everywhere  else,  all  said,  "the 
hottest  summer  we  ever  had."  But  during  the  last  fortnight  of  the 
tramp,  I  have  not  had  an  unpleasant  sensation  of  heat.    And  now,  as 


41 6  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


I  write  on  tlie  vine-shaded  porch  of  an  old  Virginia  farmhouse,  which 
has  cordially  opened  to  entertain  me  over  the  final  Sunday  of  my 
journey,  the  varied  experiences  of  the  last  month  rise  before  me. 
What  glorious  mountains ! 

Nantahala  Bald,  or  Wahyah,  is  5,500  feet  high,  though  but  a  few 
hundred  feet  of  easy  ascent  above  the  pass.  There  one  learns  what 
is  meant  by  "Bald."  Accustomed  to  our  rocky  peaks,  one  is  sur- 
prised to  find  oneself  wading,  at  the  summit,  kneedeep  in  grass,  with 
a  whole  flock  of  sheep  gathered  close  about  him. 

Cassar's  Head,  3,118  feet  high,  just  across  the  line,  in  South  Caro- 
lina, a  solitary  peak  thrust  out  from  the  Blue  Ridge ;  with  its  old- 
fashioned,  simple  hotel,  a  longtime  resort,  its  healing  air,  its  sweep- 
ing view  of  the  great  oceanlike  plain  beneath,  and  of  the  sun  rising 
red  on  a  sea  of  foamy  cloud. 

Roan  Mountain,  which  looks  east,  and  looks  west,  over  range  after 
range,  to  find  no  object  grander  than  itself!  It  is  like  a  vast  bull's 
head,  the  two  horns  at  each  extremity  of  the  ridge  that  waves  along 
for  six  miles  between,  and  ever  and  anon  rolls  up  into  huge  knobs, 
one  of  which  is  the  summit.  What  a  place  to  spend  the  summer, 
ivith  its  Cloudland  Hotel,  its  visitors  from  everywhere,  its  daily 
mail,  its  tramps  and  rides  along  the  ridge,  its  views,  its  sunsets,  its 
strange  combination  at  the  top  of  rocky  cliffs  and  balsam  forests, 
with  grassy  lawn  and  meadow ! 

Grandfather,  nearly  6,000  feet  high,  strange,  weird,  rocky,  cragful 
mountain,  where  you  climb  one  peak  only  to  discover  the  top  three 
miles  away,  towering  vast  above  you ;  where  you  drink  from  the  cool- 
est unfrozen  spring  in  the  country,  and  look  on  the  majestic  profile 
of  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain,  whence,  too,  you  look  down  on  the 
gentler  summit  of  the  Grandmother,  whose  finest  view,  when  you 
climb  it,  you  find  to  be.  as  it  ought  to  be,  the  look-out  upon  the 
Grandfather. 

And  Mount  ]\Iitchell,  6,688  feet,  highest  peak  this  side  of  the 
Rockies,  surpassing  that  once  sacredly  supreme  height  of  New  Eng- 
land, Mount  Washington !  It  is  simply  the  highest  of  a  brotherhood 
of  mountains, — the  Blacks.  And  on  its  very  summit  is  a  strange,  sad 
memorial.  It  is  the  monument  of  the  Rev.  Elisha  Mitchell,  D.  D., 
graduate  of  Yale  College,  and  professor  in  the  University  of  North 
Carolina,  who  here  lost  his  life  while  engaged  in  demonstrating  the 
supremacy  of  the  mountain,  whose  honorable  rank  he  had  first  as- 
serted. Wandering  over  the  range  alone  one  day  he  was  missing, 
and  two  days  after  the  body  was  found  in  a  clear  pool  at  the  foot  of  a 
precipitous  cascade,  on  its  rocky  sides.  Borne  over  the  mountain  by 
faithful  mountaineers,  who  had  known  and  loved  him,  the  body  was 
first  buried  at  his  home  in  the  plains.  But  later  on  the  claim  of  the 
mountain  people  prevailed.  With  solemn  ceremony  on  the  lofty  peak 
the  body  was  returned  to  the  height  he  had  discovered,  and  to-day 
the  story  adds  pathos  to  the  grandeur  of  the  spot.  Here  we  camp 
for  the  night,  under  an  overhanging  rock  that  forms  a  kind  of  cave, 
and  where  the  piercing  stars  and  the  glittering  campfire  sparks  seem 
strange  lights  shut  in  between  the  glories  of  the  setting  and  the  rising 
sun. 

But  the  memories  are  not  all  of  these  highest  peaks. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  417 


There  is  that  wonderful  ridge,  over  four  thousand  feet  high,  called 
Blowing  Rock,  central  summer  resort  of  this  section,  with  its  shifting 
mountain  panorama  and  its  insweeping  currents  of  air,  which  are  said 
to  bring  back  to  your  hand  the  hat  you  cast  forth  upon  them.  "Yes, 
I  jumped  down  myself,  three  times,"  remarks  the  boy  at  the  table,  in 
confirmation,  "and  was  blown  back  every  time."  Here  is  the  inter- 
esting and  hopeful  work  of  the  "Skyland  Institute,"  the  Congrega- 
tional institution  under  charge  of  the  American  Missionary  Associa- 
tion for  the  education  of  the  girls  of  the  mountain  section. 

Two  hotels  stand  conspicuous  among  all  others  visited.  One  is  the 
Eseeole  Inn,  on  the  site  of  the  future  Linville  City,  the  one  place,  ap- 
parently, already  discovered  by  Northern  guests,  with  whom  it  was 
overflowing.  And  that  charming,  unique  hotel  at  Cranberry,  where 
a  limited  number  of  guests  are  received  as  to  an  elegant  private  man- 
sion, and  entertained  with  the  profuseness  and  the  grace  of  a  hos- 
pitable home. 

The  day  that  brought  me  there  deserves  a  fuller  description.  A 
party  of  twenty-five  set  forth  in  the  morning  from  Cloudland  Hotel 
on  Roan  Mountain,  four  ladies  being  on  horseback,  the  rest  on  foot. 
We  followed  the  undulating  ridge  along  from  peak  to  peak,  with  ever 
new  views  of  and  from  the  mountain,  lunched  at  a  cool  spring,  and 
then,  while  the  horsewomen  rode  on  to  Yellow  Mountain,  I  dropped 
down  the  steep  mountainside  to  Cranberry,  terminus  of  the  little  nar- 
row guage  railroad  that  pierces  farthest  into  the  mountains,  seat  of 
extensive  iron  works,  lying  about  3,000  feet  high  in  a  narrow  valley 
at  the  base  of  the  ridge.  The  ladies  on  the  excursion  had  spoken 
specially  of  the  hotel  as  charming  and  homelike.  I  must  be  sure  to 
see  it.  Just  about  dusk,  haversack  across  the  back,  staff  in  hand,  the 
dust  of  the  road  impartially  distributed  over  the  whole  person,  the 
tramp  strode  into  the  village.  Right  before  me  rose  "Hotel  Mitchell," 
a  cosey  little  inn.  It  seemed  to  be  the  one  hotel,  close  to  the  iron- 
works. At.  my  call  appeared  the  proprietress,  Mistress  Maguire,  we 
may  style  her.  They  were  full  and  had  no  more  rooms.  As  an  ac- 
conmiodation  she  could  give  me  a  sofa  in  the  parlor.  But  the  sofa 
proved  small,  hard  and  stiff.  Besides,  this  was  evidently  not  the 
place.  "Is  there  no  other  hotel?"  "There  is  a  nice  boarding  house 
close  by,"  replied  my  Hibernian  hostess.  "Where  is  the  other  hotel?" 
"It  is  a  mile  from  here,  and  they  won't  take  you."  "Well,  I  want  to 
stop  there,  and  think  I  will  go  on."  "You  can't  get  in.  They  take 
only  the  highest  kind  of  folks,  and  it  is  of  no  use  for  you  to  try.  You 
had  better  go  to  this  nice,  quiet  boarding  house."  Evidently  it  was 
the  resort  of  the  men  of  the  mill,  of  whom  she  probably  thought  I  as- 
pired to  be  one.  "Well,  I  will  just  go  on,  and  try  at  the  hotel."  And 
Mistress  Maguire  was  left  with  a  smile  of  pity  on  her  face  for  the 
misguided  tramp. 

At  last,  under  the  moonlight  the  road  turned  of¥  into  a 
beautiful  shaded  avenue,  leading  to  an  elegant  mansion,  where 
a  few  people  sat  chatting  under  the  trees.  Ah,  Manager  Hahn,  as 
you  came  forward  to  meet  the  stranger  at  your  gate,  you  little  knew 
what  was  at  stake  in  your  decision  to  take  or  reject  the  tramp,  who, 
after  you  had  sent  away  two  hacks  full  of  people  that  night,  insisted 
that  he  did  not  wish  to  go  to  the  next  hotel,  but  would  willingly 


41 8   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


sleep  on  a  cot  in  the  hall  or  parlor,  if  only  he  could  see  with  his  own 
eyes  the  charming  spot  of  which  he  had  been  hearing  so  much. 
And  when,  after  some  parley,  and  perhaps  some  blarney  on  my  part, 
you  finally  opened  your  house  to  this  queer  fellow,  who  wouldn't  be 
sent  off,  you  cannot  know  the  relief  thereby  given,  even  if  you  still 
somewhat  doubted  that  he  did  actually,  in  spite  of  all  appearances,  be- 
long to  the  Cranberry  Four  Hundred.  It  is  the  pride  of  this  house  to 
entertain  distinguished  guests,  and  when  early  the  next  morning,  the 
brilliant,  world-famed  scientist,  Dr.  Eliot  Coues  of  Washington,  on 
the  ground  of  peculiar  personal  associations  and  memories,  gave  his 
imprimatur  to  your  odd  guest,  whose  clerical  character  you  had  at 
length  discovered,  the  access  of  confidence  was  marked. 

There  are  two  sequels  of  the  Cranberry  experience,  which  in  their 
way  are  as  amusing  as  the  original.  On  my  return  to  Baltimore,  in 
September,  I  found  that  one  of  the  newspaper  reporters  had  called  in 
search  of  me.  "Can  you  give  me  some  items  from  your  experience 
in  the  mountains  of  North  Carolina  this  summer?"  ''With  pleasure." 
So  I  began  a  statement  of  some  of  the  most  important  points  and 
conclusions.  But  I  soon  saw  that  he  was  not  satisfied.  He  had  not 
got  what  he  wanted.  "Did  you  not  have  a  strange  experience  in  one 
of  the  hotels?"  At  the  moment  I  recalled  nothing.  "No,  I  was 
everywhere  treated  with  the  greatest  hospitality."  "Well,  we  have 
been  hearing  some  story  of  your  being  turned  away  from  one  of  the 
fashionable  hotels  in  the  mountains.  Why,  it  was  said  that  you  came 
one  night  to  a  hotel,  at  the  end  of  your  day's  tramp,  and  applied  for 
a  room,  but  they  turned  you  off.  After  you  had  gone  an  old  Indian 
missionary  and  friend,  whom  you  had  met  there,  recognized  you,  and 
told  them  who  you  were,  so  they  sent  after  you  and  brought  you  back, 
and  gave  you  the  best  of  entertainment." 

Before  this  point  had  been  reached,  I  had,  of  course,  recognized  the 
travesty  of  my  Cranberry  experience,  with  my  Washington  professor 
changed  into  an  Indian  missionary. 

The  other  incident  was  of  a  kind  at  once  surprising,  explanatory, 
and  flattering.  A  few  days  after  my  visit  at  Cranberry  I  found  my- 
self at  Blowing  Rock,  where  I  was  the  guest  of  Mrs.  Brady,  proprie- 
tor of  Fairview.  When  I  came  to  take  my  departure,  she  remarked: 
"Mr.  Lawrence,  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I  had  seen  you  before.  Where 
can  it  have  been?"  I  replied  that  I  was  not  aware  of  having  had  the 
pleasure  before  of  making  her  acquaintance.  After  thinking  a 
moment,  "Ah,  I  have  it.  Were  you  at  Cranberry,  a  few  days  ago?" 
"Yes,  I  was."  "And  did  you  stop  at  Mr.  Hahn's  Hotel?"  "I  did." 
"Then,  I  know  how  it  was.  I  was  sitting  under  the  trees  that  night 
with  Mr.  Hahn  and  my  daughter  and  her  husband,  a  professor  in 
Smith  College.  Mass.,  when  you  came  up.  We  heard  the  conversa- 
tion between  you  and  Mr.  Hahn,  and  as  it  went  on,  my  daughter 
turned  to  me,  and  said,  "Oh  how  lovely  that  man  does  talk !  I  do 
like  to  hear  a  man  talk  that  way!"  What  the  particular  way  was 
that  so  charmed  her,  I  am  quite  unable  to  say,  but  if  my  little  speech 
on  that  particular  occasion  when  I  was  trying  to  assert  myself  as  one 
of  the  highest  kind  of  folks,  who  might  be  allowed  to  enter  the  hotel, 
so  won  the  heart  of  a  chance  listener,  I  was  the  better  able  to  under- 
stand why  the  heart  of  Mr.  Hahn  himself  had  melted  so  quickly. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


419 


It  is  quite  certain  that  any  one  who  wishes  to  travel  as  a  pedestrian, 
;  nd  also  to  preserve,  in  some  degree,  his  incognito,  must  be  prepared 
for  many  amusing  experiences,  which,  however,  will  have  no  element 
of  mortification  in  them,  if  he  remembers  that  he  has  once  for  all  dis- 
carded all  special  advantages  of  dress,  position,  or  fame,  and  taken 
his  stand  simply  upon  the  common  basis  of  humanity,  where  the  treat- 
ment which  others  give  him  will  simply  reveal  the  sort  of  esteem  they 
have  for  their  kind,  apart  from  all  special  accident  of  fortune.  At 
Roan  Mountain,  I  was  told  of  a  lady  of  the  number  of  the  nouvcau- 
richcs,  who  one  day  come  to  the  landlord  in  a  great  state  of  excite- 
ment because  there  had  been  a  man  at  the  fashionable  table  who 
was  dressed  in  a  workingman's  rig.  When  inquiry  was  made,  it  was 
discovered  that  Charles  Dudley  Warner  was  the  gentleman  in  his 
pedestrian  attire,  travelling  in  company  with  Professor  Lounsbury  of 
Yale  College.  This  same  women,  when  the  bill  of  fare  was  placed 
before  her  on  her  arrival  at  the  hotel,  is  said  to  have  stated  to  the 
waiter,  with  much  dignity,  that  she  would  like  some  menu  soup  for 
the  commencement  of  her  repast.  But  I  wish  to  bear  testimony  that 
seldom  have  I  seen  the  true  courtesy  of  some  women  brought  out 
more  pleasantly  than  when  they  were  conversing  with  me  as  one  who 
bore  the  appearance  of  an  ordinary  tramp,  and  showed  themselves 
ready  to  stand  on  level  groimd  of  common  humanity  with  one  who 
simply  knew  how  to  honor  them  as  women. 

Sometimes  the  mask  of  an  incognito  was  rudely  torn  aside.  As, 
for  instance,  on  one  occasion,  where,  waiting  for  the  train,  the  tramp 
encountered  in  the  woods  two  charming  women,  one  of  whom  was 
discovered  to  be  from  Baltimore,  the  other  from  Georgia.  A  little 
assistance  in  gathering  ferns  formed  an  introduction  to  a  most  inter- 
esting conversation  in  which  two  young  men,  who  came  up,  also  took 
part,  until  suddenly  after  I  had  made  some  remark  about  my  plans 
for  the  journey,  one  of  them  broke  out  with  the  question.  "Oh.  are 
you  not  Mr.  Belt's  pastor,  in  Baltimore?"  I  could  not  deny  the  im- 
peachment, and  saw  at  once  that  my  treatment  began  to  be  that  or- 
dinarily given  to  a  clergyman,  which  was  not  nearly  as  interesting 
as  what  had  before  been  accorded  to  a  man  who  wanted  to  be  help- 
ful, and  tried  to  be  agreeable. 

There  was  one  position  assigned  to  me,  however,  for  which  with  all 
my  experience  I  was  not  prepared.  One  easily  grows  used  to  being 
regarded  as  a  drummer,  a  reporter,  a  laborer  in  search  of  employ- 
ment, a  tramp,  and  an  enigma.  But  when  I  met  one  of  my  brother 
clergymen,  shortly  after  my  return,  he  said,  "I  heard  of  you  during 
your  tramp,  and  while  I  was  in  Kentucky."  "Ah.  nothing  but  good, 
I  trust."  "Anything  but  good,  it  was."  "Indeed,  how  was  that?" 
"Why.  a  friend  of  mine  said,  I  met  one  of  your  Baltimore  clergymen 
tramping  over  the  mountains  the  other  day,  a  Congregationalist,  I 
believe."  "Yes,  I  know  him."  "Well,  it  was  some  time  before  I 
took  him  for  a  Christian  man,  I  can  tell  you."  "Indeed,  how  was 
that."  "I  took  him  at  first  for  an  infidel."  "An  infidel,  how  could 
that  be?"  "Why,  it  came  from  the  character  of  reading  he  had  with 
him.  What  bad  reading  did  you  have  with  you?"  I  felt  like  a 
culprit,  and  tried  to  conjecture  what  it  might  have  been.  Suddenly 


420  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


I  remembered.  "Oh,  yes,  I  had  Wallace's  Darwinism  for  light  read- 
ing.   That  stamped  me  as  an  infidel." 

Asheville,  Aug.,  1892. 

I  have  been  having  or  hearing  a  long  talk  from  Colonel  Lourie,  a 
mining  prospector  posted  on  all  the  pre-historic  lore  of  the  region, 
who  has  told  me  just  how  the  mountains  came  to  be  where  they  are, 
and  about  the  Chickawas,  Toltecs  and  Aztecs  of  early  days.  He 
claims  to  have  a  tobacco  pipe  from  five  to  ten  thousand  years  old.  I 
have  seen  the  pipe.  It  is  hideous  enough  to  be  twenty  thousand  years 
old,  and  smells  of  past  ages. 

Join  me  if  you  please  in  the  first  trip  taken  from  Asheville  out  to 
Caesar's  Head.  Two  hours'  ride  on  the  cars  to  Hendersonville,  the 
most  interesting  sight  by  the  way  being  a  novel  churn.  It  is  a  long 
milk  can,  turned  on  its  side,  and  mounted  on  the  frame  of  a  rocking 
horse,  where  it  tempts  all  the  children  to  give  it  a  shove.  It  recalls 
the  use  made  of  a  milk  can  in  Dutchess  Co.,  N.  Y.,  where  I  saw  one 
once  serving  as  a  chimney  to  a  house,  smoke  and  sparks  rushing 
most  vigorously  from  its  peaceful  top.  Starting  at  once  from  Hen- 
dersonville on  foot,  half  a  mile  out  the  road  grows  doubtful.  At  a 
deserted  looking  house  I  stop  for  information.  As  I  reach  the  back- 
side a  black  dog  rushes  out  with  a  roar  and  makes  a  vicious  bite  into 
my  left  flank.  The  toothsome  interest  of  the  situation  was  soon  en- 
hanced by  the  appearance  on  the  scene  of  a  forlorn  looking  woman, 
who  darted  for  the  dog  and  put  her  foot  on  the  chain.  "Oh,  I  am 
so  nervous!  What  do  you  want?  I  am  all  alone.  I  don't  know 
what  to  do."  "The  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  tie  up  that  dog,"  I  re- 
marked, in  a  tone  slightly  satirical,  "Why,  every  body  about  here 
knows  about  him,  and  don't  think  of  coming  in  without  letting  them- 
selves be  heard  from.  I  must  just  keep  standing  on  his  chain  to  keep 
him  off  you.  Now  what  do  you  want."  Barely  able  to  restrain  my 
admiration  for  the  philanthropic  self-sacrifice  of  the  woman,  I  replied, 
"I  just  wanted  to  inquire  about  the  road.  Does  this  lead  to  Caesar's 
Head?"  With  a  kind  of  shriek  came  back  the  answer,  "I  don't  know; 
I  think  it  does,  I  think  it  does."  And  with  that  doubtful  informa- 
tion, I  withdrew. 

Fourteen  miles  out  from  Hendersonville,  at  a  store  inn,  after  a 
winding  course  along  old  mountain  roads,  and  a  short  ride  in  the  mule 
wagon  of  a  cheery,  colored  teamster,  where  I  rested  from  the  heat,  I 
came  on  a  party  of  young  men  from  South  Carolina,  who  had  left 
Hendersonville  in  their  carriages  at  about  the  same  time  as  myself, 
and  were  bound  for  the  same  spot.  While  they  were  waiting  in  im- 
patience for  the  dinner,  I  took  a  drink  of  milk  and  pushed  on.  But 
soon  the  clouds,  already  gathering,  began  to  threaten.  Showers  were 
falling  in  other  valleys,  thunder  muttered,  and  the  wind  commenced 
to  rise.  Hastening  on  as  long  as  possible,  a  sudden  burst  of  rain 
drove  me  to  the  nearest  shelter  in  a  large  old  house  just  across  a 
bridge,  where  the  waters  were  already  beginning  to  rise.  I  found 
mvself  under  the  hospitable  shelter  of  a  large,  old-fashioned  mansion. 
There  were  eight  children  at  home,  and  two  women  besides  four 
young  men  out  in  the  fields.  The  storm  increased  until  it  seemed  a 
regular  cyclone.  It  shifted  from  side  to  side,  and  we  went  from  room 
to  room,  to  keep  on  the  lee  of  the  rain.    For  some  reason  or  other, 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  421 


every  window  I  saw  seemed  to  have  one  pane  missing,  and  in  through 
the  openings  streamed  the  wind  and  water,  till  one  of  the  women 
rushed  down  stairs  with  the  news  that  every  bed  in  the  house  was 
wet.  Seeing  one  of  the  children  idly  snipping  away  with  the  scissors, 
I  asked  if  she  did  not  know  how  to  cut  out  a  doll  and  its  dresses. 
Receiving  a  shake  of  the  head,  I  took  the  scissors,  and  for  the  next 
fifteen  minutes,  recalling  the  forgotten  lore  of  my  boyhood,  devoted 
myself  to  the  instruction  of  that  child  in  the  art  of  doll  and  dressmak- 
ing. They  paid  me  in  harvest  apples.  Finally  the  sun  came  out.  As 
I  was  watching  the  swelling  flood  from  the  bridge,  my  South  Carolina 
friends  drove  by.  They  said  the  house  where  they  had  been  stopping 
was  so  shaken  by  the  cyclone  that  they  who  had  passed  through  the 
earthquake  in  Charleston  thought  it  safer  to  be  out  in  the  storm  than 
under  any  roof  and  had  driven  on.  I  soon  passed  them  again, 
checked  in  their  course  by  a  large  apple  tree  which  had  been  blown 
square  across  the  road  and  which  I  left  their  driver  hewing  out  with 
an  axe.  Again  they  were  stopped  by  a  shut  toll  gate,  whose  keeper 
had  gone  off  with  the  key  in  his  pocket,  and  by  a  flood  of  water 
across  which  I  climbed  along  the  rail  fence  that  lined  the  road. 
And  when  the  mountain  began  to  rise,  any  gain  they  made  was  easily 
recovered  by  the  pedestrian.  "What  paper  are  you  corresponding 
for?"  at  last  broke  out  one  of  my  companions.  "So  you  think  news- 
paper reporters  are  the  only  ones  who  have  go-ahead  to  them.  At 
present  I  am  not  corresponding  for  any  paper."  "Oh,  I  judged  from 
your  pen  and  pencil  carried  on  your  shirt  that  you  must  be  a  liter- 
ary man  of  some  sort."  "Well,  I  cannot  deny  that  I  am  a  literary 
man  of  some  sort."  "A  novelist,  then  I  suppose,  out  getting  material 
for  a  new  story.  How  will  you  manage  to  bring  us  in."  "Ah,  that 
must  be  determined  by  time."  And  so  the  chat  went  on,  but  my  in- 
cognito was  preserved.  Finally  after  dark  we  reached  the  old- 
fashioned,  rather  barren  looking  hotel  at  the  top,  and  were  glad  to 
get  dry  and  warm  before  dinner.  It  so  happened  that  the  five  young 
men  from  Charleston  and  I  were  assigned  to  the  same  table.  They 
were  bright,  young  fellows,  business  men,  clerks,  and  one  of  them  a 
pilot.  Their  talk  was  easy  and  free,  and  while  not  always  dodging  a 
swear-word  that  came  in  their  way.  they  were  not  obviously  profane. 
In  the  course  of  the  dinner  I  thought  it  best  to  emerge  from  my  in- 
cognito, and  handed  to  one  of  them  my  professional  card.  This 
called  forth  exclamations  of  surprise,  the  first  being  that  a  minister 
should  be  so  much  of  a  walker.  Finally  one  and  then  another  said, 
"If  we  had  known  your  profession  we  should  have  asked  you  to  say 
grace  at  the  table."  I  thought  no  more  about  it.  But  the  next  morn- 
ing at  the  table  as  one  after  another  took  his  place,  they  said,  "Now 
we  must  have  grace  said."  In  the  course  of  it,  I  naturally  made 
reference  to  the  way  in  which  we  had  been  thrown  together.  Later 
in  the  day  when  we  met  once  more  before  our  final  parting,  one  of 
them  expressed  special  thanks  for  the  allusion  I  had  made.  I  men- 
tion it  as  a  characteristic  trait  of  Southern  life.  Among  a  similar 
company  of  young  Northerners  I  should  no  more  have  been  asked 
to  say  grace  at  a  hotel  table,  than  to  dance  at  a  prayer-meeting.  But 
there  is  a  refreshing  conservatism  of  custom  and  observance  of  cere- 


422    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


monies  at  the  South,  which  gives  a  dignity  and  grace  to  their  life,  too 
often  lacking  in  ours. 

Loafing  in  the  cool  mountain  air  the  next  morning,  in  the  afternoon 
I  dropped  down  into  the  hot  plain  again,  and  finding  myself  at  four 
o'clock  only  eight  miles  from  Hendersonville  decided  to  push  on  and 
complete  the  march  of  fifty-four  miles  in  two  days,  thus  reaching 
Asheville  that  night.  But  supper  had  to  be  found  on  the  way.  At 
one  house  they  had  plenty  of  milk  but  no  meal  to  make  cornbread 
from.  It  would  soon  be  in  however,  on  the  wagon.  I  had  no  time 
to  wait  and  pushed  on  to  the  next  place  where  I  had  my  first  meal  of 
cornbread  and  milk.  Cornbread,  remember,  is  not  corn  cake,  but 
simply  meal,  water  and  salt  mixed  together  in  thick  cakes  and  baked. 
Eaten  cold,  it  tastes  like  plain  chicken  feed,  but  is  nourishing,  if  not 
specially  palatable.  Eaten  hot,  it  is  not  bad.  By  half  past  ten  that 
night  I  was  back  in  Asheville.  at  the  Battery  Park  Hotel,  whose 
praises,  both  for  view  and  comfort,  I  refrain  from  singing  only  from 
lack  of  time. 

Was  there  ever  a  valley  filled  with  the  wrecks  of  so  many  collapsed 
booms  as  the  Shenandoah  Valley?  Beautiful  town  sites  for  future 
Pittsburghs,  all  laid  out,  and  nothing  to  show  for  it  but  the  ashes  of 
fine  summer  hotels,  whose  conflagration  has  at  least  brought  in  the  in- 
surance money.  Roanoke  is  the  one  success,  though  one  or  two 
more  are  still  hoping  and  struggling.  The  hotel  being  burnt  at  Luray, 
after  visiting  the  renowned  caves.  I  find  myself  at  the  entrance  of  a 
little  inn,  over  which  hangs  the  sign  "Hotel  Laurance."  The  name 
decides  me  for  it  as  against  its  one  rival.  "You  don't  spell  my  name 
as  I  do,"  I  said  to  the  genial,  veteran  host,  as  I  went  in.  "Ah,  your 
name  is  Lawrence,  is  it?  Well,  mine  is  Parkinson.  Parkin's  son, 
you  see.  But  Lll  tell  you  about  that  name.  I  had  to  put  some  name 
up  there.  My  wife's  name  is  Laura,  so  I  just  made  it  into  Laurance, 
and  there  it  stands.  They  tell  me  it  is  spelled  wrong,  but  it  suits  me. 
There  is  Friar  Laurence  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  that  is  most  like  it." 
When  the  supper  comes  on  the  table,  and  I  learn  that  the  delicious 
fried  chicken  is  the  handiwork  of  the  aforesaid  Laura,  I  approve  the 
taste  of  mine  host  in  naming  his  hotel. 

At  Natural  Bridge,  the  next  day,  I  stand  beneath  that  span  of  rock 
and  feeling  myself  dwarfed,  look  up  into  its  lofty  spaces,  while  the 
stream  at  my  feet  rushes  through  the  opening  it  has  made.  The 
thought  occurs  that  this  is  just  the  height  of  Niagara,  i6o  feet,  and 
then  conies  the  fancy  to  conceive  of  Niagara's  cataract  pouring  down 
from  the  top  of  the  bridge  along  the  arch  and  into  the  stream.  It  is 
something  as  overwhelming  as  fascinating.  As  I  pass  out  at  the  en- 
trance, where  the  gatekeeper  stands  in  his  little  shop,  I  mention  the 
fancy  to  him  as  a  possible  feat.  "Suppose  we  should  just  bring 
Niagara  Falls  here  and  tumble  it  down  over  the  bridge,  what  a  fine 
sight  it  would  make!"  A  look  of  apprehension  at  once  comes  over 
his  face,  as  if,  in  his  mind's  eye,  he  sees  me  already  returning  with 
the  cataract  upon  my  back,  ready  to  let  it  loose  upon  the  region. 
"No,"  he  replied,  in  an  injured  tone.  "I  don't  think  it  would  improve 
it  at  all;  it  would  spoil  the  effect  of  the  span."  "Ah,  but,"  is  my  re- 
joinder, "if  we  did  it  at  all,  you  know,  we  would  arrange  it  just  as 
we  wanted.    In  the  Catskills  they  have  waterfalls  which  they  can 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


423 


turn  on  and  off  as  they  choose.  The  visitors  pay  their  quarter,  the 
water  is  let  on  for  a  few  minutes,  then  turned  off  again.  So  we  could 
combine  the  present  effect  with  the  other  one."  "Well" — with  a  sigh 
of  relief,  "that  might  answer."    And  I  go  out  in  search  of  Niagara. 

The  things  that  interested  me  most  were  the  people  I  met  by  the 
way  and  in  their  homes.  They  all  belonged  to  the  class  of  mountain 
whites,  by  no  means  to  be  confounded  with  the  poor  white  trash  of 
the  cotton  plains,  where  colored  labor  had  degraded  all  other  labor, 
and  a  white  man  would  rather  starve  than  work.  In  these  mountains 
there  are  and  have  been  few  negroes,  and  this  section  of  the  state 
voted  against  the  secession  ordinance,  though  accepting  the  final  deci- 
sion of  the  rest  of  the  state.  The  people  of  this  region  have  long 
been  residents  of  the  state,  and  are  largely  of  Scotch,  German,  or 
Huguenot  descent.  Far  removed  from  railroads  and  markets,  they 
have  had  little  spur  to  their  ambition  and  have  found  it  possible  to 
live  in  comparative  comfort  with  the  labor  of  a  few  months  in  the 
year  on  their  productive  farms.  As  a  consequence,  though  of  a  sturdy, 
hardy  stock,  and  endowed  with  many  virtues,  such  as  hospitality  and 
honesty,  they  have  become  lazy,  shiftless  and  ignorant,  contented 
often  with  a  life  of  squalor,  and  it  seems  to  us,  of  utter  poverty.  Yet 
there  are  many  among  them,  who  are  noble,  many  Christian  people, 
only  needing  fresh  incentive  and  contact  with  a  larger  world  to  be- 
come as  intelligent  and  worthy  citizens  as  any  we  have. 

The  most  depressing  thing  I  have  seen  is  the  condition  of  the 
women,  who  suffer  from  a  lack  of  training  and  who  are  greatly  over- 
worked. The  Presbyterians  have  established  in  Asheville  a  school  for 
girls,  in  which  Rev.  Stuart  Dodge  is  deeply  interested.  And  the  Con- 
gregationalists  have  undertaken  the  same  work  at  Blowing  Rock, 
though  in  a  smaller  way,  the  results  of  which  are  higlily  satisfactory. 

It  may  be  of  interest  to  add  that  the  school  at  Asheville,  called  the 
Normal  and  Collegiate  Institute  for  Young  Women,  is  very  prosper- 
ous. It  is  under  the  auspices  of  the  Presbyterian  Woman's  Board 
of  Home  Missions,  and  is  greatly  indebted  to  Mr.  Dodge  for  his  gen- 
erous and  unwearied  assistance. 

At  Mr.  McArty's.  This  is  one  of  the  most  delicious  afternoons  I 
have  ever  passed.  This  old  Virginia  farmhouse  is  the  very  place  to 
pass  Sunday.  I  have  brought  the  table  out  on  the  porch,  shaded  and 
fanned.  Only  the  dogs  and  chickens  are  about.  I  look  down  the 
narrow,  shut-in  valley,  and  up  to  the  hills  where  the  trees  make  a 
fringe  for  the  straight  line  of  their  tops,  and  out  on  the  nearer  corn- 
covered  hills.  A  large,  two-storied,  stone-founded  farmhouse,  inno- 
cent of  paint.  A  Sabbath  stillness  all  about,  though  interspersed  by 
occasional  calls  of  the  men  at  work. 

In  the  evening  it  was  so  cool  that  a  fire  was  very  pleasant.  We  sat 
near  it  and  chatted,  my  host  telling  of  the  war  and  the  way  in  which 
Stonewall  Jackson  whipped  the  Yankees.  But  I  have  not  met  a  man 
who  is  not  glad  the  war  ended  as  it  did,  and  rejoices  in  having  one 
country. 

Sunday.  I  have  just  come  back  from  church,  three  miles  away.  I 
walked  with  one  of  the  boys,  and  the  daughter,  with  another  boy,  rode 
horseback.  It  was  a  Methodist  Church.  A  neat,  little  box  of  a  house 
with  white  paint  and  green  blinds.    The  men  looked  like  a  miserable 


424    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


gang.  The  most  disagreeable,  though  the  smartest  among  them,  was 
the  minister.  He  preached  an  hour  or  more  on  the  mustard  seed, 
giving  a  historj'  of  the  church  from  the  three  persons  of  the  Trinity 
who  first  composed  it  through  the  uncreated  angels  to  Jesus  Christ. 
There  was  an  excursus  on  church  unity,  and  one  on  Infant  Baptism, 
in  the  course  of  which  he  lammed  the  Baptists.  He  referred  to  me  as 
one  who  had  come  from  way  up  North,  in  Baltimore,  "to  us  of  the 
sunny  South." 

Mr.  Mc.'\rty's  charge  was  seventy-five  cents  for  keeping  me  two 
days,  and  he  seemed  very  thankful  when  I  handed  him  a  dollar.  His 
wife  and  daughter  evidently  stand  in  awe  of  him.  They  do  the  milk- 
ing morning  and  evening.  The  daughter  sings  and  plays  a  little  on 
the  cabinet  orgsn.  I  sang  with  them  and  gave  them  an  account  of 
my  travels,  in  which  they  seemed  intensely  interested.  Am  just  fin- 
ishing Wallace's  Darwinism,  which  I  have  been  reading  unterwegs. 
Intensely  interesting. 

Let  me  give  you  a  picture  of  Jefferson.  About  800  people,  a  broad 
street,  with  rows  of  maples  in  the  centre  as  well  as  the  sides,  two 
churches,  two  hotels,  three  stores  open,  two  closed,  one  academy,  four 
or  five  lawyers.  About  seven  people  on  the  porch  of  the  opposite 
hotels,  and  the  bell  rings  for  breakfast,  first  in  one,  then  in  the  other. 
At  half  past  seven  Mr.  AIcEwen  opens  up  his  store  and  seats  himself 
on  the  porch,  where  one  or  two  loungers  join  him.  At  eight,  old 
man  Carson  comes  out  of  his  house,  opens  the  door,  but  not  the  win- 
dows, of  the  store  opposite  McEwen,  and  seats  himself  in  the  door- 
way for  the  day,  except  when  he  leaves  for  a  short  time.  He  watches 
McEwen  and  McEwen  watches  him.  Meantime  not  a  vehicle  stirs  in 
the  village. 

At  half  past  eight  there  is  a  sudden  irruption  of  life.  School 
children  go  trooping  up  to  the  academy.  All  the  loungers  sitting  on 
the  various  porches  waiting  for  something  to  happen  grow  lively. 

At  nine,  the  lawyer  opens  his  office  just  opposite,  then  goes  away, 
leaving  it  open,  while  a  group  of  negroes  gather  about  the  door  and 
chat  and  snicker.  The  other  lawyer  opens  his  office  and  sits  there. 
Then  old  ]\Ir.  Logan,  the  wit  of  the  village  and  the  postmaster,  takes 
his  seat,  pipe  in  mouth,  in  front  of  our  hotel,  sitting  there  all  day. 
He  has  been  well  oft",  but  has  lost,  and  has  learned  the  secret,  he  says, 
of  living  on  thirty  cents  a  month.  A  bushel  of  potatoes  costing  that 
will  do  it. 

Meantime,  I  am  waiting  for  my  team.  I  was  a  little  lame  yester- 
day. The  forty-five  miles  to  .Abingdon  looks  longer  than  350  already 
travelled.  Mr.  Sanford  starts  about  half  past  seven  to  get  my  team 
ready.  I  pay  frequent  visits  to  his  stable  to  see  how  he  gets  along. 
Now  the  horse  has  to  go  to  the  blacksmith  to  have  a  few  nails  put 
in.  Then  the  wagon  must  be  fixed  up.  Next  I  see  him  rushing  back 
with  the  harness  from  the  harness  maker's.  Mrs.  Logan  "allows" 
that  he  will  get  round  about  half  past  eleven.  But  I  go  for  him  once 
more  and  get  him  started  for  the  hotel.  At  half  past  nine  he  appears. 
I  pay  fifty  cents  for  supper,  lodging,  breakfast,  and  am  under  way. 
Walk  five  miles  on  a  short  cut,  ride  three  or  four  to  the  house,  and  by 
thus  favoring  myself  one  day,  am  all  right  to  go  on. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


The  tramp  of  four  hundred  miles  is  really  over,  though  I  can  hard- 
ly believe  it.  I  have  been  taken  for  a  drummer,  a  mineral  prospector, 
a  laboring  man,  a  tramp,  for  almost  everything  but  a  clergyman. 

But  it  has  been  a  great  tramp — from  the  South  Carolina  line, 
through  North  Carolina,  to  Virginia.  I  have  travelled  in  fifteen  coun- 
ties and  climbed  five  or  six  of  the  highest  peaks. 

How  wonderfully  have  I  been  led  all  the  way !  Delightful  weath- 
er !  Well  all  the  time.  Not  a  plan  interfered  with.  Met  only 
pleasant  people.  Not  a  rough  word  given.  Unvarying  kindness  and 
hospitality.  A  host  of  new  experiences.  Greatly  increased  knowl- 
edge of  one  section  of  our  country.  Seen  only  beauties  of  nature 
and  tokens  of  the  divine  love. 

Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow.  Amen. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


ACTIVITIES   OF   A   BUSY  PASTOR. 

Yea,  that  is  life ;  make  this  forenoon  sublime, 
This  afternoon  a  psalm,  this  night  a  prayer, 
And  time  is  conquered  and  thy  crown  is  won. 

— Edward  Rowland  Sill. 

On  his  return  from  his  southern  tramp,  Edward  went  to 
Worcester  to  supply  the  pulpit  for  a  Sunday,  where  he 
writes  his  mother,  Aug.  21st,  1892: — "I  caught  the  10.30 
train  and  made  a  quick  run  here,  coming  to  the  Bay  State 
hotel,  where  I  am  quartered  sumptuously.  What  a  contrast 
■between  last  Sunday  and  this!  Then  my  dinner  was 
stringed  beans,  corn  bread  and  preserves.  Here  the  table 
is  loaded  with  the  best  the  market  can  produce,  and  I  bring 
an  appetite  the  match  for  it.  My  breakfast  Sunday  morn- 
ing was  melon,  oatmeal,  tenderloin  steak,  omelet,  cakes 
and  cofifee;  then  I  walk  over  to  the  superb  church,  and 
preach  from  the  text,  "Man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone." 
Is  is  all  very  well  for  a  day,  but  on  the  whole,  I  prefer  the 
herbs  and  fruit.  After  service,  several  of  our  relatives,  with 
others,  came  and  spoke  to  me.  Among  them  was  Dr.  Pea- 
body,  in  charge  of  the  city  hospital, — a  Phillips  classmate 
nearly  thirty  years  ago,  and  whom  I  have  not  met  since  till 
now.  Cousin  Henry  called  on  me,  but  we  missed  each 
other  till  he  found  me  before  the  Greens'  door  on  Green 
Hill,  when  he  came  in  and  took  tea  with  me.  What  a 
home!  All  feminines,  as  we  sat  down  to  dinner,  save  us 
two.  That  castle-like  house,  that  noble  dining-room,  that 
great  "Round  table"  with  flowers  piled  high  in  the  center, 
the  hymn  and  Scripture  and  prayer  while  seated  at  the 
table,  the  bright  conversation  afterwards,  all  was  delight- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


ful.  Andrew  Green  of  New  York  owns  all, — over  a  thou- 
sand acres.   What  a  brother! 

As  Edward's  maternal  grandmother  was  a  native  of 
Worcester,  where  she  resided  in  the  old  colonial  Wheeler 
house  till  her  marriage,  Edward  was  always  interested  in 
his  visits  there.  At  this  time,  he  not  only  saw  relatives  of 
his  mother,  but  a  cousin  on  his  father's  side, — Rev.  Samuel 
Hosmer,  a  highly  esteemed  clergyman,  residing  in  the  city, 
but  who  has  since  gone  to  the  Celestial  city. 

Mr.  Hosmer  writes: — "Cousin  Edward's  text  when  he 
preached  here  was,  'Man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone.' 
It  was  a  very  superior  sermon,  exceedingly  suggestive  and 
practical,  and  held  the  fixed  attention  of  the  house.  At  the 
American  Board  Meeting,  I  heard  his  brief  but  admirable 
remarks  upon  the  great  question  discussed  Thursday 
morning.  Surely  his  early  removal  is  to  our  short-sighted 
vision  a  baffling  enigma.'' 

While  in  the  city  he  met  with  a  young  second  cousin, 
who  was  so  reserved  that  his  parents  knew  little  of  his  re- 
ligious condition.  But  in  accordance  with  his  usual  cus- 
tom, in  a  walk  with  the  young  man,  Edward  drew  from  him 
a  frank  expression  of  his  religious  views  and  purposes. 
And  not  long  after,  on  hearing  of  his  sudden  removal  from 
earth,  by  the  report  of  their  conversation  Edward  was 
able  to  send  much  "comfort  to  the  afflicted  friends. 

When  in  Boston,  Edward  often  saw,  professionally,  Dr. 
Dwight  W.  Clapp,  an  accomplished  dentist  of  the  city. 
He  became  well  acquainted  with  him  and  his  wife,  and  a 
hearty  friendship  was  formed  between  them.  The  follow- 
ing letter  shows  how  Dr.  Clapp  regarded  him: — 

To  his  family,  his  church,  his  personal  friends,  and  the  whole  com- 
munity, your  son's  loss  is  truly  irreparable. 

T  search  in  vain  through  my  list  of  acquaintances  for  another  young 
man  who  so  embodied  the  ideal  of  a  noble  Christian  manhood,  so 
thoroughly  consecrated  were  all  his  powers  to  his  Master's  service, 
and  so  enthusiastic  and  untiring  his  efforts  for  the  uplifting  of  his 
fellowmen.    It  is,  indeed,  an  inscrutable    Providence    which  has 


428    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Snatched  him  from  the  work  where  he  was  sO'  much  needed,  and  for 
which  he  was  so  eminently  fitted.  I  find  myself  associating  him  in 
my  thoughts  with  Phillips  Brooks,  in  his  self-forgetfulness  and  his 
entire  consecration  to  duty,  which  seemed  to  be  so  clearly  defined 
that  there  was  no  hesitancy,  but  a  steady  pushing  forward  in  his  own 
peculiar,  vigorous  and  manly  fashion.  His  untiring  energy  was  an 
inspiration  to  others. 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  thought  of  his  noble  life,  as  full  of  useful- 
ness as  a  tree  is  of  fruit,  following  its  beautiful  buds  and  blooms,  is 
the  greatest  consolation  and  joy  that  you  could  possibly  have.  This 
legacy  left  by  a  dutiful  son  is  worthy  eighty  years  of  toil  and  much 
tribulation. 

From  Worcester  Edward  went  to  Marblehead,  where  he 
spent  a  few  days.  He  found  that  Miss  Nunn  had  become 
quite  famihar  with  his  favorite  haunts,  Crocker  Park, 
the  old  fort  and  Cow's  Fort,  the  well  of  Agnes  Surriage  and 
other  historic  places,  of  some  of  which  she  had  taken 
sketches.  And  it  was  a  great  pleasure  to  him  to  take  her 
on  a  walk  to  Magnolia  and  the  Singing  Beach  in  Glouces- 
ter. 

But  he  could  not  linger  long.    And  in  September  he 

Wrote  his  mother  from  Baltimore  that  he  had  engaged 

rooms  at  1104  McCulloh  St. 

I  wanted  a  front  view  for  you,  which  we  could  have  in  the  third 
story,  but  it  would  be  a  climb  up  there.  If  it  is  too  much  for  you  to 
go  out  to  meals,  I  will  have  some  arrangement  for  having  them 
brought  in. 

■  I  have  just  got  hold  of  Professor  Shield's  article,  and  after  I  have 
read  it  will  send  it  to  you.  .  .  I  have  some  facts  for  you.  I 
learned  from  Mr.  P.,  whom  I  saw  last  night,  that  some  insurance  com- 
panies decline  to  insure  a  man  that  smokes.  .  .  Dr.  Chisholm,  a 
distingushed  oculist  of  this  city,  on  examining  the  eyes  of  a  woman, 
was  puzzled.  "If  you  were  a  man,"  he  said  to  her,  "there  is  just  one 
thing  I  should  say."  "What  would  that  be?"  "That  you  had  tobacco 
eyes."  "That  is  just  it."  Then  she  told  him  how  she  had  learned  to 
smoke  to  keep  company  with  her  husband. 

•  As  to  the  cholera,  I  think  it  is  well  to  have  a  Hamlin  mixture  on 
hand.  .  .  I  am  sorry  about  the  trouble  in  your  neck,  which  comes 
from  overwork ;  but  I  am  thankful  you  did  not  suffer  from  the  bell- 
knob  this  time.    You  must  keep  a  special  lookout.    .  . 

In  the  September  bulletin  was  the  following  notice: 

"Next  Sunday  morning  a  special  sermon  on  the  work  of 

the  year.    All  who  are  not  willing  to  be  bogs  and  drones, 

but  wish  to  bear  fruit,  are  particularly  invited." 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


429 


During  this  month  Edward  made  an  address  on  Syste- 
matic Giving  before  the  Washington  Conference,  having 
already  given  one  on  the  same  subject  at  the  New  Jersey 
Association  in  April. 

He  writes: — "Work  is  coming  fast  and  it  is  a  pleasure  to 
have  so  much  strength  for  it.  Next  Sunday  afternoon  I 
preach  at  the  Penitentiary,  which  is  a  yearly  engagement." 

Edward  also  gave  an  address  on  Systematic  Bible  Study 
in  St.  Peter's  Church.   His  busy  life  called  for  much  physi- 
cal exercise,  which  he  fully  realized.    His  failure,  through 
the  coming  on  of  storms,  to  walk  the  fifty  miles  to  New 
York,  which  he  had  planned  when  a  student  at  Princeton, 
had  always,  as  he  said,  rankled  in  his  mind.   After  his  walk 
of  forty  miles,  he  was  encouraged  to  renew  the  old  at- 
tempt.   Not  daring,  however,  to  imperil  his  Sunday  ser- 
vices, he  started  at  half-past  three  one  Thursday  morning, 
reaching  home  at  half-past  eight  in  the  evening,  having  ac- 
complished sixty  miles.    In  preaching  his  sermon  Sunday 
morning,  he  told  his  hearers  that  it  had  been  prepared  on 
the  road.    It  was  quite  a  satisfaction  when  several  came  to 
him  expressing  their  readiness  to  have  him  take  another 
such  walk,  if  it  would  give  them  another  such  sermon.  In 
the  evening  he  preached  from  the  text, — "Thy  righteous- 
ness is  like  the  great  mountains,"  being  lessons  from  the 
mountains  he  had  seen. 

Early  in  October  Edward  writes  that  he  is  pleasantly 
settled  at  the  Palmers'  and  likes  them  very  much.  He  pro- 
poses that  his  mother  should  meet  him  in  New  Haven,  at 
the  delivery  of  his  last  lecture,  and  then  go  on  with  him  to 
Baltimore. 

It  was  during  this  month  that  the  Episcopal  Convention 
was  held  in  Baltimore. 

Oct.  i8th,  1S92. 

I  met  Bishop  Brooks  this  afternoon  at  an  Alpha  Delta  Chi  recep- 
tion, and  had  a  call,  yesterday  from  dear  Bishop  Huntington,  who 
sent  his  love  to  you. 


430    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


From  Edward's  account  of  the  Convention  in  the  Congrc- 
gationalist  a  few  passages  follow: — 

The  deliberative  and  legislative  character  of  the  assembly  is  at  once 
apparent.  Dr.  Dix  is  a  model  presiding  officer  and  there  are  many 
skilled  parliamentarians  among  the  deputies.  They  are  not  as  stiff 
as  the  Senate  and  not  as  wild  as  the  House  of  Representatives.  The 
ruling  was  kindly  and  liberal,  but  firm  and  clear.  Wit  punctuated 
the  learning  of  the  speakers,  and  a  laugh  was  not  dreaded.  The  move- 
ment on  the  part  of  a  few  to  hold  hereafter  the  business  sessions  of 
the  convention  in  an  unconsecrated  hall  was  killed.  There  was  a  uni- 
formity of  excellence  about  the  speeches  made  which  was  pleasant. 
Men  spoke  for  the  most  part  in  clear,  full  tones  and  to  the  point, 
though  the  inevitable  bores  were  of  course  represented. 

The  matter,  however,  that  created  the  most  general  interest  and 
that  filled  the  church  with  attentive  audiences  of  non-Episcopal  hear- 
ers was  that  of  Christian  unity.  One  of  the  debaters  frankly  confessed 
that  Christian  unity,  so  often  referred  to  during  the  discussions  as 
an  "iridescent  dream,"  had  become  to  him  a  horrid  nightmare,  be- 
cause, while  attempting  to  heal  external  divisions,  it  was  only  ac- 
centuating their  internal  differences.  "Before  we  can  have  a  reunited 
Christendom,"  said  another,  "we  must  be  reunited  ourselves."  "We 
have  yearned  a  long  time  for  unity,  now  let  some  one  else  do  the 
yearning,"  was  the  sentiment  of  others.  "The  church  has  had  com- 
mitted to  it  the  deposit  of  faith;  as  a  part  of  that  deposit  stands  the 
ministry  with  the  three  orders ;  that  we  can  never  surrender  or  com- 
promise." "The  church  is  large  enough  for  all;  if  they  want  unity 
let  them  come  into  the  church,"  said  a  colored  deputy  from  Texas. 
"Let  them  press  the  button;  we  will  do  the  rest." 

Seldom,  if  ever,  have  so  many  people,  even  in  church-going  Balti- 
more, attended  Sunday  services  as  during  the  last  three  weeks.  The 
pulpits  and  the  churches  have  both  been  filled.  Such  men  as  Bishop 
Potter,  Bishop  Grafton. — a  former  resident,  Bishop  Whittle  of  Min- 
nesota,—the  missionary  bishop,  Bishop  Walker  of  North  Dakota,  who 
evangelizes  in  his  cathedral  Pullman  car,  and  many  others  have  de- 
lighted their  large  congregations.  But  way  above  them  all  has  tow- 
ered the  Bishop  of  Massachusetts.  The  desire,  the  struggle,  to  hear 
him.  has  been  universal  and  from  all  churches.  When  in  the  hall  of 
the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  he  stood  a  week  ago  before  a  vast  audience  com- 
posed of  men  only,  and  lifted  them  up  to  the  level  of  spiritual  things, 
it  seemed  that  one  such  man  was  worth  whole  cartloads  of  platforms 
on  Christian  unity. 

Oct.  i6th,  1892.    From  the  printed  report: — 
"Philanthrof'ic  Baltimore,"  was  the  subject  of  a  sermon  by  Rev.  Ed- 
ward A.  Lawrence  in  the  First  Congregational   Church.    His  text 
was : — "We  have  a  strong  city,  and  salvation  will  He  appoint  for 
walls  and  bulwarks."    .    .  . 

Of  these  philanthropies  a  little  volume,  just  published  by  the  Char- 
ity Organization  Society,  gives  the  record.  If  we  were  to  commit  the 
fair  fame  of  the  city  we  love  to  any  book  of  a  hundred  pages,  this 
would  be  the  book.  It  is  the  condensed  story  of  the  best  life  of  our 
place.    .    .    It  shows  the  most  distinctive  features  of  outward  Chris- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  43 1 


tian  lite  as  distinguished  from  the  most  refined  and  exalted  pagan- 
ism,— its  institutional  and  associated  benevolence.  My  answer  to  any 
sneer  of  an  unbeliever  would  be  to  hold  up  to  him  the  "Directory  of 
the  Charitable  and  Beneficent  Organizations  of  Baltimore  and  Mary- 
land." To  one  who  can  read  between  its  lines  and  comprehend  what 
it  stands  for,  the  pages  live  and  throb  with  keenest  interest.  Our 
grandest  epic  poem  is  that  of  the  philanthropies  of  Baltimore.    .  . 

It  may  well  be  hoped  that  the  combined  sentiments  of  pity,  justice 
and  humanity,  which  have  created  so  vast  and  variously  ramified  a 
system  of  beneficence,  and  which  have  already  righted  so  many  politi- 
cal wrongs,  will  more  and  more  concentrate  themselves  on  the  en- 
deavor to  provide  social  and  individual  remedies  for  the  economic 
causes  from  which  so  many  unnecessary  evils  flow.  The  sentiment 
of  brotherhood  is  all  the  time  expanding,  and  should  be  able  to  make 
our  strong  city  one  which  has  salvation  for  its  walls  and  bulwarks. 

Oct.  i8th,  1892. 

So  it  seems  that  I  have  attained  the  honor  of  being  pictured  in 
The  World.  We  never  know  how  great  we  are  until  the  papers  find 
it  out.  .  .  I  am  glad  Anna  heard  Patti,  and  that  she  did  not  let 
the  criticisms  of  others  spoil  her  pleasure.  Keep  up  the  physical  ex- 
ercises ;  they  will  do  you  both  good.  I  hope  you  will  continue  to  be 
the  inspirer  of  youth.    Even  at  eighty,  one  is  but  an  infant. 

On  Sunday  evening,  Oct.  30th,  1892,  Edward  preached 
to  a  crowded  house,  from  Genesis  4:9:  "Am  I  my  broth- 
er's keeper?'' — an  ilktstrated  sermon — "How  the  other  half 
of  Baltimore  lives."  What  is  given  here  is  from  the 
printed  report: — 

Nearly  fifteen  lantern  slides  were  shown  with  the  aid  of  the  magic 
lantern.    The  sermon  was  in  part  as  follows : — 

"If  we  truly  are  our  brother's  keeper  there  should  be  no  such  thing 
as  another  half  separate  and  distinct  from  our  lives.  Humanity  is 
one  whole.  _  We  stand  and  we  fall  together.  These  pictures  show 
right  here  in  a  church  of  Christ  what  you  may  see  any  day  of  the 
week.  There  is  nothing  sensational  about  them.  Only  they  are 
people  with  whose  lives  we  have  grown  unfamiliar.  The  history  of 
the  other  half  might  almost  be  written  as  the  history  of  the  tenement- 
house  system. 

"The  alleys  themselves  have  many  advantages  and  should  be 
healthful  if  the  city  kept  them  clean.  There  is  plenty  of  air  and  light. 
But  the  water  and  milk  are  poisoned  by  the  garbage  and  filth  that  ac- 
cumulates. They  become  breeding  places  for  cholera.  The  courts 
are,  many  of  them,  worse.  The  houses  that  are  in  transition  from  the 
ordinary  dwelling-house  to  the  tenement-house  are  worst  of  all.  The 
janitors  of  our  large  butiness  buildings,  who  are  a  most  isolated  class, 
live  under  the  roof,  in  greatest  discomfort  and  loneliness ;  children 
are  brought  up  with  the  alley  as  their  cradle  and  their  playground ; 
sweaters,  in  their  hot,  filthy,  crowded  houses,  toil  from  twelve  to 
fifteen  hours  a  day. 


432   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


"It  is  a  great  thing  to  found  Christian  churches  and  asylums  hke 
those  of  which  this  city  has  so  many.  It  is  another  and  a  greater  to 
take  our  Christianity  down  to  the  courts  and  alleys  and  tenement- 
houses  and  fill  the  houses  that  are  there  and  the  lives  with  the  joy  and 
light  and  purity  of  a  divine  life  that  heals,  cleanses  and  invigorates 
the  body  as  well  as  the  soul ;  that  blesses  little  children  and  makes 
the  slums  to  be  purged  and  the  water  to  be  sweet  and  all  the  condi- 
tions of  life  to  favor  righteousness,  instead  of  creating  an  atmos- 
phere in  which  virtue  is  no  more  to  be  expected  than  wheat  from  a 
flat  rock." 

The  next  day  Edward  received  from  the  office  of  The 
Critic  the  following  letter : — 

Baltimore,  Oct.  31,  1892. 

Rev.  E.  A.  Lawrence, 

Rev  and  Dear  Sir: 

I  was  very  much  gratified  to  hear  your  sermon,  yester- 
day, on  "Hozv  the  other  half  lives,"  and  especially  so  for  the  credit 
you  gave  the  Knights  of  Labor  for  their  efforts  to  ameliorate  the  hard 
conditions  of  the  "other  half."  It  is  my  firm  conviction  that  a  healthy 
public  opinion  can  be  aroused  on  this  subject,  and  I  know  of  no  better 
way  to  accomplish  that  object  than  by  continually  directing  attention 
to  the  evils  desired  to  be  corrected.  It  was  with  this  end  in  view 
that  I  have  persisted  week  after  week  in  The  Critic  that  a  remedy 
could  be  applied.  In  this  connection  I  wish  to  also  thank  you  for  your 
public  recognition  of  the  work  done  by  that  paper. 

If  you  desire  to  continue  your  investigations  in  this  direction,  I 
shall  be  most  happy  in  placing  myself  at  your  disposal. 

Respectfully, 

J.  G.  Schonfarber. 

A  few  weeks  after  the  delivery  of  this  sermon  Edward  re- 
ceived another  letter  from  a  Nationalist,  thanking  him  for 
his  consent  to  give  the  club  an  address  on  social  Reform, 
He  adds,  "I  am  told  that  not  long  ago  you  gave  an  illus- 
trated lecture  on  The  Condition  of  the  Poor.  Could  you 
not  give  us  a  repetition  of  it?  What  the  people  need  is  to 
be  aroused  from  their  indifiference  towards  their  suffering 
fellowmen,  and  to  show  them  their  actual  condition  would, 
I  think,  secure  this  object.  I  trust,  therefore,  that  you  will 
favorably  consider  my  request. 

"The  club  would  be  happy  to  see  you  at  any  of  its  meet- 
ings, held  on  Thursday  nights." 

Edward  not  infrequently  received  inquiries  in  regard  to 
the  Charity  Organization  work — as  to  the  death-registry 
from  poorly-built  houses,  for  instance.    And  the  following 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  433 


letter  came  to  him  from  a  well-known  philanthropist  in. 
Chicago,  dated  December  23rd,  1892: — "Please  accept  my 
thanks  for  your  note  to  Professor  Adams  in  regard  to  the 
construction  of  houses  for  the  working  classes.  .  .  . 
I  am  getting  together  some  facts  to  aid  a  friend  in  England 
who  has  made  a  purchase  of  land  twelve  miles  from  Lon- 
don, where  he  is  going  to  erect  buildings,  in  the  plans  of 
which  I  think  he  will  get  some  valuable  suggestions  from 
the  construction  of  working-men's  houses  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Baltimore.  Thanking  you  for  the  aid  you  have 
given  me  in  this  matter,  believe  me. 

Truly  and  respectfully  yours, 

E.  W.  Blatchford. 
President  William  R.  Harper  of  the  University  of  Chi- 
cago, founder  of  the  American  Institute  of  Sacred  Litera- 
ture, was  greatly  interested  to  secure  in  Baltimore  a  course 
of  Bible  study,  with  lectures.  In  such  a  busy  city  this  was 
no  easy  task,  but  after  correspondence  with  clergymen  and 
others,  arrangements  were  made  for  such  a  course  early  in 
1892. 

On  May  ist,  Edward  writes  his  mother: — 

Our  Bible  Institute  is  through,  and  has  proved  a  great  success.  The 
papers  were  very  good  and  the  attendance  at  all  the  exercises  was  re- 
markable. The  speakers  from  abroad  said  that  they  had  never  known 
such  large  attendance  except  when  Professor  Harper  was  lecturing. 

On  hearing  of  Edward's  departure.  President  Harper 
wrote  his  mother: — "I  was  greatly  shocked  at  the  tidings, 
as  I  had  learned  to  think  everything  of  your  son.  His 
kindness  to  me  when  I  was  in  Baltimore  I  could  not  ior- 
get.  The  suddenness  of  his  removal  must  have  made  it  a 
very  hard  blow.  But  you  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing 
how  greatly  he  was  appreciated,  and  what  an  influence  he 
had  already  exerted  on  the  lives  of  young  people." 

Extracts  follow  from  letters  to  Edward's  mother  from 
his  brother  clergymen,  some  of  them  not  only  giving  their 


434    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


warm  personal  tribute,  but  speaking  of  his  connection  with 
the  Bible  Institute. 
From  Rev.  C.  Clever: — 

When  I  write  of  your  dear,  dear  son,  where  shall  I  find  expressions 
to  convey  to  you  my  feelings  ?  His  clean-cut,  honest  nature  niade  all 
respect  him.  Whether  you  agreed  with  him  or  entirely  dissented  from 
him,  you  were  sure  of  his  manly  honesty. 

In  his  class  in  the  Bible  Institute  he  read  for  us  the  book  of  Job 
with  here  and  there  a  comment.  That  reading  was  a  revelation.  The 
mellow  voice,  the  perfect  accentuation,  and  the  vivacious  reproduc- 
tion of  the  figures  in  that  ancient  drama  were  a  feast  of  good  things. 
His  reading  of  the  book  was  worth  a  whole  bushel  of  commentaries 
upon  it.    I  shall  always  be  thankful  that  I  enjoyed  this  treat. 

In  my  relation  to  him  in  general  work  I  found  him  one  of  the 
broadest  of  men.  He  sought  men  for  men's  sake  because  God  loved 
them.  He  recognized  in  all  these  men  the  marred  image  of  God,  and 
with  heroic  energy  he  sought  to  restore  it.  For  this  end,  though  al- 
ways full  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness,  he  never  failed  to  recog- 
nize the  Gospel  of  the  blessed  law  of  God  as  the  only  power  where- 
by human  nature  may  be  sanctified. 

Yours  in  sympathy, 

C.  Clever. 

From  Rev.  T.  M.  Beadenkoff,  pastor  of  the  Third  Con- 
gregational church  in  Baltimore. 

My  first  meeting  with  Mr.  Lawrence  was  in  the  spring  of  1889, 
when  he  came  as  pastor  to  the  First  Congregational  Church  of  Balti- 
more. In  1890  I  was  called  to  be  pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church 
at  Canton ;  the  property  then  was  in  litigation,  and  we  owe  much  to 
the  kindly  advice  and  assistance  of  Brother  Lawrence  at  this  period. 
Our  church  had  no  better  friend  than  he,  and  on  the  night  of  our 
prayer-meeting  when  his  serious  illness  was  announced,  how  fervent- 
ly did  prayer  rise  for  his  recovery !  His  unselfishness  was  mentioned 
by  our  people;  one  of  them,  a  young  Welshman  recently  arrived  in 
the  United  States,  went  to  Mr.  Lawrence  to  be  married;  the  fee 
handed  him  by  the  groom  was  returned  to  the  bride. 

On  his  last  birthday,  January  i6th,  1893,  at  the  ministers'  meeting, 
Mr.  Lawrence  handed  me  a  note  inclosing  a  five  dollar  gold  coin;  the 
note  was  as  follow : — 

My  Dear  Brother  Beadenkoff : — 

This  being  my  natal  day,  I  do  not  know  how  I  can 
better  please  myself  than  by  enclosing  this  coin,  asking  you  to  use  it 
to  buy  books  or  anything  you  may  specially  desire  for  yourself. 

Yours  fraternally, 

Edward  A.  Lawrence. 

I  thanked  him  for  his  gift  and  suggestion  how  to  make  a  birthday 
anniversary  blessed  with  giving. 

His  latest  generosity,  the  bequest  to  our  church,  will  be  a  sacred 
trust  and  used  for  good.  To  him  we  owe  much  of  Christian  co-oper- 
ation among  the  various  Baltimore  denominations;  he  was  the  very 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


435 


life  of  our  Baltimore  branch  of  the  American  Institute  of  Sacred 
Literature ;  he  invited  Dr.  Harper  here  to  start  it,  and  by  his  untiring 
effort  he  brought  to  it  success;  we  met  in  a  Bible  class  together, — 
Episcopalians,  Baptists,  Methodists,  Presbyterians,  Congregational- 
ists  and  others.  Without  Mr.  Lawrence's  work  the  Baltimore  Society 
would  not  have  been. 

At  this  class  he  read  aloud  to  us  the  Book  of  Job,  and  though  with- 
out commentary  or  notes,  yet  by  his  fine  voice  and  elocution  he  made 
clear  that  mysterious  book.  His  varied  attainments  were  never  made 
a  matter  of  display,  and  only  by  accident  and  by  long  intercourse  with 
him  could  we  learn  his  full  powers.  I  never  knew  he  was  a  musician 
until  at  a  meeting  the  organist  was  absent,  when  Mr.  Lawrence  took 
the  position  and  filled  it.  At  another  time  while  we  were  riding  to- 
gether in  the  railway  train,  a  young  German  approached  us,  and  in  a 
moment  I  had  made  another  discovery  about  Mr.  Lawrence's  modesty 
and  linguistic  ability.  He  was  engaged  in  German  conversation  as' 
if  a  native.  I  had  known  him  three  years  but  had  never  learned  this. 
His  wide  travel  had  given  him  many  original  and  fresh  illustrations. 
In  his  last  sermon  at  our  church  he  told  us  about  the  conversion  of  an 
engineer  on  the  Indian  railway  to  Darjeeling  and  of  his  own  ride  on 
the  engine  up  to  that  mountain  town.  Another  incident  was  his  experi- 
ence on  his  North  Carolina  tramp.  He  saw  a  man  hoeing  cabbages 
while  seated  in  an  easy  chair.  "Ah!  There  is  a  picture  of  monu- 
mental laziness,"  said  Mr.  Lawrence,  as  he  passed  along;  but  he 
turned  back  to  look  again  and  there  by  the  chair  was  a  crutch  leaning; 
the  poor  man  had  but  one  leg.  He  learned  then  something  of  the 
man's  misfortune  and  his  pluck  and  courage.  Mr.  Lawrence's  words 
and  works  will  live  after  him  and  make  his  memory  blessed. 

A  few  kind  words  are  here  given  from  Rev.  Dr.  Gram- 

mer,  of  St.  Peter's  Episcopal  Church: — 

I  grieve  with  you  over  the  death,  at  so  early  an  age,  of  your  very 
gifted  son.  He  died,  loved,  honored  and  lamented,  and  you  have 
every  consolation  in  all  the  sweet  memories  of  his  consecrated  life 
and  all  the  rich  and  noble  tributes  by  the  distinguished  men  of  God 
who  prayed  and  wept  over  his  bier.  I  recollect  him  for  his  manly  and 
brave  witness  for  Christ,  for  his  mental  gifts  of  analysis  and  re- 
search, for  his  love  of  nature  and  the  beautiful  in  sentiment,  the  pure 
in  life  and  the  generous  liberty  of  the  Gospel. 

Edward's  mother  was  from  the  first  well  satisfied  with 
the  winter  arrangements  he  had  made  for  her.  Mrs. 
Palmer's  kindness  was  specially  appreciated  when  he  con- 
sented for  a  few  weeks  to  allow  his  mother  to  arrange  her 
own  meals.  In  a  letter,  Mrs.  Palmer  writes: — "Your  son's 
wonderful  care  of  you  was  our  constant  admiration,  secur- 
ing for  him  our  unqualified  respect.  It  was  an  example  of 
filial  devotion  worthy  the  imitation  of  the  whole  sex.'' 


43^   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Edward's  sister  and  her  little  boy  passed  the  hohdays  in 
Baltimore,  spending  several  days,  and  among  them  Christ- 
mas, at  the  Nunns',  on  which  occasion  we  joined  them. 

Sunday  evening,  according  to  the  bulletin,  was  an  illus- 
trated sermon — "Christvias  in  Poem,  Picture  and  Music." 
After  the  charming  poem  read  by  Edward,  came  a  series 
of  classic,  stereoptic  copies  of  scenes  attending  the  birth  of 
Jesus  Christ,  his  sister,  unseen,  softly  singing  the  appropri- 
ate verses  he  had  selected  as  the  views  appeared,  being  a 
singularly  impressive  service.  How  little  did  any  one  real- 
ize that  this  was  his  last  Christmas  on  earth ! 

During  the  week,  at  the  church  social,  there  was  a  New 
England  supper  of  brown-bread  and  baked  beans,  followed 
by  various  entertainments.  Among  these  was  the  singing 
by  Edward's  sister,  of  the  "Boston  Tea  Party"  and  "Lord 
Lovell,"  which  were  both  warmly  encored. 

From  a  sketch  in  a  Baltimore  paper  are  taken  the  fol- 
lowing passages: — 

Few  persons  are  aware  that  a  society  of  ministers  has  existed  here 
for  the  past  twenty-two  years,  which  somewhat  resembles  the  "Im- 
mortal Forty"  of  France.  This  is  the  Eclectic  Club,  which  is  com- 
posed of  twelve  ministers  of  various  denominations,  and  whose 
monthly  meetings  are  held  at  the  homes  of  the  different  mem- 
bers. .  .  It  was  organized  in  1871  at  the  house  of  Rev.  Dr.  L.  W. 
Bacon,  then  preaching  in  the  First  Congregational  Church. 

Rev.  Dr.  Scholl,  Secretary  of  the  Foreign  Missionary 

Board  of  the  Lutheran  Church,  writes: — 

It  was  my  great  pleasure  and  privilege  to  be  intimately  associated 
with  your  lamented  son  for  a  few  years  in  the  Eclectic  Club,  where 
I  learned  to  esteem  him  highly,  especially  because  of  his  deep  and  in- 
telligent interest  in  Foreign  Missions,  a  work  with  which  I  have  been 
connected  for  eighteen  years.  Mr.  Lawrence  was  a  rare  soul,  and,  as 
I  often  remarked  to  the  brethren,  had  one  of  the  clearest  and  most 
discriminating  minds  that  I  ever  came  in  contact  with.  The  last  paper 
that  he  presented  to  the  Eclectic  Club, — the  subject  being  An  Apology 
for  Nature,  was  one  of  the  most  unique  productions  that  I  ever  lis- 
tened to.  If  you  have  found  it  anywhere  among  his  papers,  I  hope  ♦ 
you  will  carefully  preserve  it. 

The  bulletins  were  a  very  convenient  way  of  communica- 
tion between  Edward  and  his  people.  Through  one  of 
them,  early  in  December,  he  said: — 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  437 


"The  pastor  returns  his  mother's  and  his  own  thanks  to 
the  Christian  Endeavor  Society  for  the  Surprise  Party  so 
graciously  planned,  and  so  graciously  accomplished  last 
Tuesday  evening." 

In  a  late  November  bulletin  appears  the  following: — 

"Remember  the  Prison  Congress  to  be  held  in  this  city 
December  3-7,  and  reserve  time  to  attend  its  sessions. 

In  the  first  December  bulletin  the  notice  is  repeated: 

"Remember  the  sessions  of  the  National  Prison  Associa- 
tion, morning,  afternoon  and  evening,  on  Monday,  Tues- 
day and  Wednesday  of  this  week." 

A  Sunday  evening  service  was  held  in  his  church,  one  of 
the  addresses  being  given  by  Rev.  Mr.  Batt,  Chaplain  of 
the  Concord  Reformatory,  Mass. 

It  was  particularly  pleasant  to  meet  Mr.  Batt,  thus  recall- 
ing our  visit  to  his  Reformatory  and  the  mention  he  made 
of  it  in  Our  Paper. 

Not  many  months  after  the  Prison  Congress,  there  ap- 
peared in  the  same  journal  a  passage  which  is  here  given: — 

Dr.  Lawrence  was  a  man  of  very  broad  sympathies,  and  took  into 
the  circle  of  his  regard  the  prison  work,  as  well  as  many  other  depart- 
ments of  moral  reform.  One  of  the  best  reports  of  the  Prison  Con- 
gress in  Baltimore  which  we  have  seen,  was  furnished  by  him  for  the 
religious  press.  His  personal  assistance  was  of  great  value  during 
the  sessions  of  the  Congress  also. 

Dr.  Lawrence  visited  this  Reformatory  in  1890  and  addressed  one  of 
our  early  meetings.  His  widowed  mother  was  with  him,  and  she  also 
has  spoken  to  the  Reformatory  people  upon  the  use  of  narcotics.  He 
was  not  yet  married,  and  the  devotion  of  the  son  to  the  mother  was 
most  beautiful.  The  world  none  too  often  sees  so  fine  an  example  of 
filial  respect,  and  his  bearing  was  Christian  chivalry  itself.  They  at- 
tracted no  little  notice  when  they  were  together  in  public  places. 

We  have  now  on  our  table  the  weekly  bulletin  of  his  services  which 
Dr.  Lawrence  gave  us  nearly  a  year  ago.  It  commends  to  his  people 
the  meetings  of  the  Prison  Congress  which  were  about  to  occur,  and 
it  contains  a  picture  of  his  beautiful  church  building.  It  recalls  his 
courtesy,  his  delightful  hospitality,  and  his  pleasant  congregation. 
But,  alas,  we  shall  not  listen  to  him  again  ! 

In  the  Congregational  Index,  published  in  Washington, 

in  December,  1892,  was  the  following  report:— 

First  Congregational  Church,  Baltimore.  Rev.  Edward  A.  Law- 
rence, Pastor. 


438   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


The  church  is  prospering  in  all  its  operations.  The  pastor  has  used 
the  stereopticon  at  special  evening  services  throughout  the  year  with 
greatly  enlarged  audiences  and  good  results.  Next  year  he  plans  to 
take  up  the  Life  of  Christ  by  this  means.  The  Sunday  School  and 
Christian  Endeavor  Society  were  never  more  flourishing  than  now. 
The  ISIission  Circle  of  the  Christian  Endeavor  Society  has  issued  an 
attractive  program  for  its  monthly  meetings  throughout  the  winter. 

Rev.  Dr.  Pullman  of  the  Universalist  Church  had  in- 
vited the  clergy-men  of  the  various  denominations  to  oc- 
cupy his  pulpit  on  successive  Sunday  evenings,  giving  the 
reason  for  their  differing  positions. 

From  Edward's  discourse,  "Why  I  am  a  Congregation- 
alist,"  extracts  are  taken  from  the  printed  report: — 

The  three  pillars  on  which  Congregationalism  was  built  were  the 
town  meeting,  the  meeting-house,  the  school-house.  It  has  ever  led 
in  the  foimding  of  schools  and  colleges,  in  starting  social  and  philan- 
thropic movements  and  reforms,  in  establishing  great  national  so- 
cieties, denominational,  interdenominational  and  union.  As  a  faith, 
Congregationism  is  simply  evangelical.  It  is  anchored  to  no  creed, 
but  holds  to  Christ  and  the  Bible.  Practically  it  fellowships  all  with- 
in the  limits  of  the  Nicene  Creed.  Historically  associated  with  Cal- 
vinism, it  is  ever  responsive  to  new  influences  and  receptive  of  new 
light. 

The  Puritans  did  not  believe  in  the  divorce  of  religion  and  politics, 
nor  do  their  sons.  As  a  potency  to  unite,  Congregationalism  is  an  in- 
terdenominational denomination.  It  aims  at  fraternity,  co-opera- 
tion and  ultimate  union  of  churches  and  Christians.  It  is  a  self- 
governed  church,  with  Christ  as  its  head,  the  Bible  as  its  charter,  and 
other  churches  in  fellowship.  This  is  the  Christian  democracy  of  Con- 
gregationalism as  a  polity,  a  history,  a  faith  and  a  potency. 

In  February,  1893,  Dwight  L.  Moody  accepted  the  invi- 
tation from  the  churches  in  Baltimore,  consenting  to  spend 
three  weeks  there.  After  their  departure,  Edward  wrote  an 
article  for  a  Baltimore  paper,  headed:  "Moody  and 
Sankey  in  Baltimore.''  From  this  some  passages  are 
given : — 

There  can  be  no  question  that  the  whole  city  is  profoundly  stirred. 
The  Cyclorama  building,  the  use  of  which  was  secured  for  three 
weeks,  will  hold  five  thousand  people.  From  the  start  it  has  been  full 
at  almost  every  service.  Often  hundreds  have  been  turned  away  long 
before  the  hour  of  opening  the  meeting.  Overflow  meetings  are  held 
in  adjoining  churches  and  theatres.  The  clerg>'  of  all  denominations 
are  on  hand.  And  the  audiences  are  composed  of  every  class  and  sect, 
including  Catholics. 

Mr.  Moody  is  himself.  To  his  methods  I  have  not  heard  one  word 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  439 


of  objection  made.  Their  freedom  from  all  that  is  sensational  or 
merely  emotional,  their  good  sense  and  informality  commend  them  to 
all,  and  many  who  object  to  the  strategic  methods  of  Mr.  Mills,  and 
his  extensive  use  of  converts'  cards,  work  heartily  with  Mr.  Moody. 

Most  refreshing  in  all  these  meetings  has  been  the  entire  absence  of 
financial  claims.  An  energetic  committee  undertook  the  raising  of  the 
necessary  funds  for  incidental  expenses  at  the  start  by  subscription, 
and  not  one  word  relating  to  such  matters  has  been  heard  in  any  of 
the  meetings.  All  sectarianism,  too,  seems  swallowed  up  in  the  great 
enthusiasm  for  the  kingdom  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls. 

When  they  entered  the  city  they  were  greeted  by  a  company  of  some 
three  hundred  Endeavorers,  who  sang  a  song  of  welcome.  Should 
those  who  have  been  in  some  way  aided  by  them  during  their  stay  go 
out  to  speed  the  parting  guests,  the  streets  around  the  station  would 
not  hold  them. 

In  the  bulletin  of  May  7th,  1893,  appears  this  item: — 
"One  of  the  greatest  losses  this  church  has  ever  ex- 
perienced has  occurred  in  the  death  of  its  long-time  mem- 
ber, its  constant  friend  and  benefactor,  James  Henry  Stick- 
ney,  who  went  home  Wednesday  morning,  May  3rd,  at  half 
past  eight  in  the  morning." 

From  an  article  by  Edward,  entitled:  'A  Loyal  Congre- 
gationalist,'  a  few  extracts  are  taken: — 

Perhaps  Mr.  Stickney's  deepest  passion,  next  to  his  attachment  to 
his  Saviour,  was  his  loyalty  to  his  Puritan  ancestry  and  devotion  to 
his  and  their  denominational  cause,  memory  and  traditions.  The 
custodian  of  the  Pilgrim  Memorial  Hall  at  Plymouth,  Mass.,  tells  of 
his  surprise  and  perplexity  when,  some  years  ago,  a  quiet  gentleman, 
entirely  unknown  to  everybody,  presented  himself  to  him  with  the  in- 
quiry whether  the  hall  was  considered  a  safe  depository  of  such  pre- 
cious treasures  as  it  contained.  Obliged  to  admit  that  the  hall  was 
not  fireproof,  he  was  told  that  this  stranger  would  assume  the  entire 
cost  of  making  it  so  and  that  he  wished  the  work  begun  and  com- 
pleted as  soon  as  possible.  Quite  aghast  at  the  proposal  he  handed 
the  stranger's  card  to  the  representatives  of  the  Pilgrim  Society,  who 
soon  found  that  this  was  no  lunatic,  but  a  responsible  business  man, 
who  meant  all  that  he  said,  and  more.  Later  Mr.  Stickney  expressed 
himself  to  his  pastor  as  only  regretting  that  he  had  not  spent  more 
money  and  made  it  a  finer  hall.  Now  Plymouth,  with  Duxbury,  re- 
ceives $74,000  for  various  memorial  and  improving  purposes. 

In  spite  of  his  devotion  to  Congregationalism,  or  rather  because  of 
it,  there  was  one  standing  grievance  which  he  cherished  against  it. 
It  had  lost  the  early  predominance  which  it  held ;  it  had  been  doing 
its  mission  work  under  vague,  general  titles,  which  meant  nothing  to 
the  world  at  large,  and  left  it  to  be  inferred  that  Congregationalism 
alone  among  the  great  denominations  had  no  mission  field  or  work. 


44°   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


In  his  Will,  he  said : — "While  making  this  bequest  I  desire  to  ex- 
press my  regret  that  so  many  of  the  societies  to  be  benefited  under  the 
provisions  of  this  my  Will,  which  are  substantially  connected  with, 
dependent  upon  and  supported  by  the  Congregational  churches,  bear 
names  which  are  not  distinctive  of  their  position  and  purposes,  and 
my  profound  conviction  that  their  own  interests  and  the  interests  of 
Congregationalism  require  that  there  should  be  such  amendment  or 
modification  of  their  name  as  to  show  clearly  their  connection  and 
purposes,  and  to  express  the  hope  that  at  an  early  day  these  societies 
will  make  such  amendment  to  their  names  as  will  clearly  express  their 
connection  and  aims,  and  I  especially  desire  to  express  my  great 
gratification  that  the  residuary  legatee  in  this  Will,  formerly  known 
as  the  "American  Congregational  Union,"  has  taken  the  name  of 
"Congregational  Church  Building  Society,"  which  is  a  true  designa- 
tion of  the  work  in  which  it  is  engaged  and  of  the  denomination  of 
Christians  which  sustains  it." 

Lest,  however,  it  should  be  supposed  that  Wr.  Stickney  was  at  all 
narrow  in  these  bequests,  another  word  should  be  added.  His  gifts 
reach  half  round  the  world,  from  Robert  College,  in  Constantinople, 
to  the  Pacific  Theological  Seminary.  And  they  go  to  almost  every 
possible  form  of  charity.  No  less  than  twenty-one  charitable  and 
philanthropic  societies  and  institutions  in  Baltimore,  representing 
almost  every  possible  form  of  beneficence,  are  remembered,  with  gifts 
running  from  $500  to  $4,000  apiece,  and  aggregating  $34,000.  Mr. 
Stickney  loved  his  own  home  and  ecclesiastical  family  name.  But  he 
loved  ail  the  more  truly  his  neighbors  and  respected  their  family 
names.  He  was  an  ardent  Congregationalist.  But  he  was  yet  more 
a  broad-minded,  hopeful,  helpful  Christian,  whom  to  know  was  to 
honor  and  to  love. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

AN   EVENTFUL  PERIOD. 

Out  of  the  shadows  of  night 
The  world  rolls  into  light, 
It  is  daybreak  everywhere. 

— Longfellow. 

In  the  bulletin  of  Dec.  i8th,  1892,  the  subject  announced 
for  the  C.  E.  Society,  was: — "How  can  I  help  my  pastor?'' 
or  in  other  words,  what  can  we  do  to  extend  the  work  of 
the  church? 

At  the  meeting,  several  papers  were  read  on  Boys'  Chibs 
and  Girls'  Work,  while  Miss  Nunn  read  one  on  a  Christian 
Endeavor  Settlement,  her  thought  being  to  have  it  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Marsh  Market,  or  East  Lombard  St.,  a 
part  of  the  city  with  which  she  was  familiar.  This  greatly 
interested  Edward,  falling  in  as  it  did  with  an  idea  which 
had  been  gaining  ground  in  his  mind.  The  next  day  he 
called  to  talk  over  the  matter  with  her,  and  finding  what  a 
deep  interest  she  felt  in  it,  he  was  led  to  disclose  to  her  his 
project  of  making  his  home  for  a  time  in  Winans'  Tene- 
ments. For,  after  a  thorough  survey  of  the  rough  por- 
tions of  the  city  in  his  Charity  Organization  work,  he  had 
fixed  on  this  place  as  on  the  whole  the  best  adapted  for 
his  experiment. 

A  brief  sketch  of  Winans'  Tenements  mav  be  desira- 
ble:— 

Mr.  Robert  Winans  was  a  wealthy  man  who  owned  extensive  ma- 
chine shops  on  Parkin  Street,  in  what  is  called  Southwest  Baltimore. 
The  idea  of  these  tenements  originated  with  him,  and  thev  are  said 
to  have  been  the  first  of  the  kind  in  the  United  States.  "  The  high 
rents  prevailing  previous  to  the  panic  of  1873,  led  him  to  realize  the 
working  man's  need  of  a  comfortable  home.  So  his  machine  shops 
were  removed,  and  at  a  cost  of  half  a  million  of  dollars,   113  brick 


442   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


houses,  four  stories  high,  were  erected,  the  intersecting  streets  being 
graded.  Hallways  were  on  each  floor,  and  water  was  conveyed  to  the 
fourth  story,  with  waste  pipes  to  carry  it  off,  while  bath-houses  and 
letter  boxes  were  provided  for  every  yard.  There  were  also  arrange- 
ments in  each  house  for  drying  clothes,  for  receiving  garbage,  and  for 
ashes,  with  a  vault  in  the  cellar  for  milk,  butter  and  eggs,  while  Hol- 
land shades  on  spring  rollers — which  were  very  rare  in  those  days — 
appeared  at  the  front  windows. 

This  "Winans'  Row,"  as  it  is  called,  attracted  much  notice,  and  the 
early  tenants  were  skilled  mechanics.  Gradually,  however,  these  were 
displaced  by  the  unemployed,  the  lazy,  and  the  vicious,  so  that  at 
length  it  became  a  demoralized  community. 

Edward  found  no  one  who  entered  more  enthusiastically 
into  his  tenement  plans  than  Lowry  Nunn.  It  was  the  kind 
of  work  in  which  she  had  always  been  most  interested  and 
of  which  she  had  had  much  experience.  It  is  not  strange 
that  he  was  drawn  to  her,  and  that  he  should  finally  seek 
her  as  his  helpmate.  And  when,  one  evening,  he  brought 
Lowry  to  his  mother's  room,  she  warmly  welcomed  her  as 
his  betrothed.  To  deny  that  there  was  a  tinge  of  sadness 
mingled  with  her  joy  would  be  to  deny  her  human  nature. 
She  had  had  the  first  place  in  his  heart,  and  although  she 
had  longed  to  have  him  find  his  "alter  ego,"  yet  it  did  cost 
her  a  struggle  to  surrender  that  place.  But  her  love  for 
her  son  enabled  her  to  conquer,  and  heartily  ever  after  to 
sympathize  in  his  new-found  happiness. 

In  his  appreciation  of  his  mother's  afYection,  and  his  con- 
stant over-estimate  of  her,  with  which  she  could  not  help 
being  comforted  as  well  as  humbled,  he  had  written: — 

How  sweet  in  you  to  have  such  dreams  for  me  in  connection  with 
the  dear,  old  home !  You  have  eternal  youth.  I  can  see  how  brave 
you  have  grown  in  bearing  what  you  could  hardly  have  endured  a  few 
years  ago.  And  you  see  the  sunshine  that  breaks  in  over  it  all.  What 
should  I  be  without  you?  You,  who  make  it  so  hard  for  any  one  to 
come  as  your  daughter  because  I,  who  know  so  much  of  the  depth, 
strength,  poetry  and  love  of  one  woman's  heart,  become  very  exact- 
ing among  womankind,  and  seek  one  of  whom  I  must  say,  "Of  her 
I  am  in  no  way  worthy." 

Now  he  writes: — "I  am  so  glad  at  last  that  the  realiza- 
tion of  your  dream  about  having  a  dear  one  with  me  at 
Linden  Home,  is  coming   true,  and  that  it  is   one  who 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  443 

learned  to  love  it  before  she  imagined  the  future.  My 
friends  ought  to  know  that  strength  and  loveliness  of  char- 
acter would  have  the  greatest  charm  for  me,  and  that  no 
merely  intellectual  woman  would  get  very  far  into  my 
heart." 

In  March  an  announcement  was  made  in  the  bulletins 
and  a  fuller  one  by  hand-bills. 

YE  DEESTRICK  SKULE. 

On  Friday,  ye  loth  day  of  March  in  ye  year  1893.. 
Proceeds  for  ye  benefit  of  ye  work  in  ye  Winans'  tenements. 

This  was  well  carried  out,  the  proceeds  being  $50. 

The  bulletins  express  the  thanks  of  the  Tenements'  Com- 
mittee for  the  donation  from  the  Christian  Endeavor  So- 
ciety of  four  framed  pictures,  "which  adorn  the  walls  of 
Parkin  St." 

I  left  Baltimore  for  New  England  shortly  after  "Ye 
Deestrick  Skule''  exhibition,  and  as  the  tenement  which 
Edward  had  engaged  needed  some  repairs,  he  could  not 
take  me  to  visit  it  before  my  departure.  But  he  moved  in 
shortly,  and  with  him  one  of  the  Johns  Hopkins  students, 
Mr.  Frank  Thomson. 

Winans'  Tenements,  214  Parkin  St.,  March  28th,  1893. 
My  Dear  Mother : — 

Here  we  are  at  last  in  our  rooms,  which  I  wish  you 
could  see.  The  little  back  room  is  almost  filled  by  the  two  single  beds 
and  a  washstand.  It  has  a  good  cupboard,  and  in  the  front  room, 
which  has  two  windows,  there  is  a  clothes  press.  Here  stand  our 
two  bureaus,  our  two  tables,  and  our  nine  chairs,  one  a  rocker.  Some 
of  my  pictures  are  already  here.  Mr.  Thomson,  my  chum,  sits  by  my 
side  reading  the  Bible.  Miss  Kerns  and  her  sister,  who  care  for  us, 
are  quite  proud  of  the  rooms. 

"Residence  of  the  pastor,  Rev.  Edward  A.  Lawrence, 
214  Parkin  St." 

This  notice,  which  Edward  felt  it  necessary  to  have 
placed  on  the  door  of  his  church,  excited  much  comment, 
leading  to  exaggerated  accounts  of  the  sacrifice  he  was 
making.   These  accounts,  which  appeared  not  only  in  Bal- 


444   REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


timore  papers,  but  elsewhere,  greatly  annoyed  him,  as  he 
always  shunned  publicity.  Since,  however,  there  was  no 
help  for  it,  he  concluded  to  take  it  philosophically  and 
work  on. 

Among  the  reports  which  gave  desirable  information, 
the  following  was  in  the  Baltimore  American,  April  7th, 
1893:— 

Last  night  the  new  class  consisted  of  twentj-  boys.  Each  Monday 
night  a  boys'  club  meets  at  the  same  place,  and  the  boys  are  amused 
with  innocent  games  and  in  various  ways.  Last  Tuesdaj-  night  a 
class  in  reading,  writing  and  arithmetic  was  formed.  Last  night  four 
gentlemen  and  eight  ladies  were  present  from  the  Congregational 
Church,  and  about  fifty  boys  and  girls  of  all  ages. 

Mr.  Lawrence  read  to  them  a  humorous  paper  on  the  subject  of 
"Manners."  In  it  were  described  "pig  manners,"  "darkey  manners," 
"bear  manners,"  "post  manners"  (dumb  like  a  post),  "rooster  man- 
ners," "cow-in-the-parlor  manners,"  and  "interrupter's  manners." 
The  children  laughed  heartih",  at  the  same  time  learning  a  wholesome 
lesson  in  deportment. 

Writes  one  of  the  prominent  helpers  in  Parkin  St : — 
"The  one   thing  that  did   most  in  furthering  the  work 
was  Mr.  Lawrence's  going  to  live  among  them,  and  with- 
out any  air  of  condescension.   Indeed,  to  use  that  word  in 
connection  with  him  seems  utterly  out  of  place." 

The  following  is  from  ^Mr.  Thomson,  wTitten  in  the  Tene- 
ments after  Edward  had  left  these  scenes  forever: — 

It  seems  strange  to  be  here  alone,  yet  there  are  memories  about  the 
place  that  cling  to  me.  On  the  wall  hangs  that  picture  you  gave  me 
of  your  son.  It  is  in  front  of  the  table,  or  rather  above  it,  where  he 
penned  that  letter  to  you  in  which  he  described  the  rooms  and  his 
"chum."    He  always  called  me  "chum,"  you  know. 

The  two  sisters  wish  me  to  thank  you  for  the  picture  you  sent  them, 
•which  they  prize  highly. 

One  thing  that  strongly  impressed  me  in  Mr.  Lawrence  was  his 
vigor.  Full  of  vitalitj-  and  strength,  life  seemed  a  joy  to  him.  His 
very  step  was  full  of  purpose ;  even  now  I  can  hear  it  in  the  hallway 
and'  on  the  stair,  quick  and  sprightly.  There  was  no  loitering,  no  in- 
decision in  it.  It  indicated  that  he  knew  just  where  and  for  what  he 
was  going.    Vigor  and  decision  were  stamped  upon  his  nature. 

His  conversation  was  always  a  help  to  me.  We  usually  conversed 
near  midnight  and  I  never  talked  with  him  without  feeling  benefited. 
That  breadth  and  depth  which  comes  only  from  close  observation 
and  much  thinking  formed  the  foundation  of  his  utterance.  He  al- 
ways had  something  worth  hearing  to  say. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


445 


As  to  the  plans  for  work  down  here,  I  will  quote  to  you  from  some 
remarks  that  I  made  before  the  Historical  Seminary  of  the  Uni- 
versity:  '  Prompted  by  a  deep  religious  motive,  Mr.  Lawrence  favored 
the  idea  of  letting  religious  instruction  come  rather  through  the  many 
deeds  of  the  workers,  than  from  the  many  words  of  the  preacher.  It 
was  the  exemplification  of  his  own  character. 

"He  laid  the  plans  for  the  work  broad  and  deep;  broad  enough  to 
allow  all  to  co-operate  who  have  an  interest  in  the  work,  and  deep 
enough  to  give  that  spirit  to  it  without  which  charity  work  becomes 
'as  sounding  brass  or  a  tinkling  cymbal.'  Those  who  have  known 
the  work  from  its  beginning  realize  the  grasp  he  had  upon  the  situa- 
tion and  the  problems  to  be  met,  as  they  labor  on  without  his 
counsel." 

His  name  is  a  frequent  word  here  among  the  people,  showing  how 
much  he  loved  them,  for  love  begets  love. 

From  a  letter  written  to  my  mother  on  Nov.  12,  1893,  I  quote  a  pas 
sage  that  I  wrote  under  the  shadow  of  bereavement  and  with  no 
thought  that  you  would  ever  see  it : 

"Last  Monday  I  attended  the  funeral  of  Mr.  Lawrence,  one  of  my 
minister  friends,  and  with  whom  I  roomed  last  spring  in  Winans' 
Tenements.  His  funeral  was  one  of  the  most  simple  and  impressive 
that  I  have  ever  seen.  There  was  no  sermon — properly  so-called. 
Several  ministers  from  the  city  of  different  denominations  and  two 
from  a  distance  made  a  few  remarks  of  a  personal  character;  scrip- 
ture was  read,  a  prayer  offered  and  one  or  two  of  his  favorite  hymns 
sung,  and  then  the  funeral  train  wended  its  way  to  Greenmount 
Cemetery  to  leave  there  all  that  was  mortal  of  Dr.  Lawrence.  His 
memory  still  lingers  with  me  as  a  blessed  benediction." 

Edward  thus  writes  his  mother: — 

May  29th. 

I  enclose  tickets  which  will  show  our  last  move  in  the  tenements. 
The  Art  Loan  Exhibition  begins  to-day.  There  will  be  no  paintings, 
but  a  good  collection  of  photographs,  etc.  Last  week  I  called  at  every 
house,  and  on  every  family  in  the  tenements,  distributing  the  tickets, 
which  were  well  received,  and  we  should  have  a  large  turn-out.  Our 
evening  classes  will  stop  next  week,  as  the  warm  weather  is  on,  and 
many  of  our  helpers  leave  at  the  end  of  the  school  year.  We  have 
had  a  remarkable  combination  of  talent  for  the  work. 

Please  thank  Mrs.  Bowen  for  her  note  of  congratulation.  Lowry 
is  suffering  from  overwork.  .  .  A  week  from  to-day,  I  shall  be  off 
for  the  World's  Fair. 

The  year  preceding  the  Cohimbian  Exposition,  Edward 
was  appointed  a  member  of  the  Advisory  Committee  of  the 
Congress  of  Missions.  In  informing  him  of  this  appoint- 
ment, Dr.  Walter  M.  Barrows,  chairman  of  the  Committee, 
wrote  him:  "We  ask  your  co-operation  that  we  may  make 
this  the  most  memorable  conference  of  Christian  workers 


44^  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


ever  assembled.  .  .  The  committee  having  it  in  charge 
desire  suggestions  as  to  how  the  time  may  be  used  in  the 
best  way,  so  as  not  only  to  exhibit  what  Christianity  has 
done  for  the  world,  but  also  to  give  a  new  impetus  to  the 
work  we  all  have  at  heart." 

As  Edward's  visit  to  the  World's  Fair  was  made  early  in 
the  summer,  he  was  unable  to  take  any  active  part  in  the 
conference.  Although  he  had  expected  to  accompany  Dr. 
Babcock,  he  did  not  leave  Baltimore  till  a  day  or  two  after. 
In  writing  of  this  to  his  mother,  he  said: — "It  was  a  great 
disappointment  to  lose  his  delightful  company,  but  I  took 
a  common  car,  thereby  saving  ten  dollars  and  other  ex- 
penses which  I  could  not  afiford." 

He  sent  her  postal  cards  on  his  journey,  according  to  his 

custom.   Then  brief  letters  followed: — 

Hotel,  South  Shore,  Bond  Avenue  and  73rd  St.,  June  8th,  1S93. 
Arrived  safely  last  night  about  ten  o'clock.    Found  Mr.  Babcock 
here.    Everything  primitive   but   comfortable.    Fine   day.    Just  off 
novf  for  the  first  look  on  the  Fair,  under  Mr.  Babcock's  guidance. 

June  9th. 

Another  beautiful  day.  Mr.  Babcock  has  left  and  I  am  here  alone. 
Spent  the  time  in  the  Art  Gallery,  Machinery  Hall,  Woman's  Build- 
ing, etc.  The  last  is  a  most  inspiring  exhibition  of  what  woman  has 
done  and  can  do.  But  the  simple  view  of  the  grounds  and  the  build- 
ings would  pay  for  the  trip  even  if  no  buildings  were  entered.  If  you 
could  be  here  for  a  day  or  two  and  be  wheeled  around  in  a  rolling 
chair,  it  would  be  fine. 

I  can't  understand,  dear  mother,  why  I  don't  hear,  unless  you 
have  been  delayed  in  reaching  home,  and  hence  not  received  my  let- 
ters.   To-day  I  was  in  the  city.    Found  Frank  Cramer  here. 

June  loth. 

A  dark  day  first,  and  now  a  pouring  rain  which  I  think  will  pass. 
Have  gone  through  Machinery  Hall.  Wonderful  is  the  Mergenthaler 
Linotype,  which  composes  and  distributes  type  from  the  touch  of  a 
key-board.  Then  the  agricultural  instruments  in  Agricultural  Hall, 
where  I  am  writing,  are  also  wonderful.  And  the  exhibits  of  the 
products  of  each  state,  especially  of  Iowa,  which  disposes  its  corns 
and  its  grains  in  a  most  artistic  way,  as  in  the  Corn  Palace  in  Sioux 
City. 

Now  let  me  tell  you  of  a  picture  and  piece  of  statuary  I  saw  to-day. 
The  picture  is  French,  The  Return  of  the  Missionary.  The  scene  is 
in  a  monastery  in  France.  Into  the  large  hall  stalks  a  tall,  worn, 
gaunt  monk,  planting  before  him  his  pike,  which  has  a  cross  at  its 
top.  Behind  him  comes  a  young  African  convert,  carrying  a  little 
baboon  in  one  hand,  and  pineapples  and  bananas  in  the  other.  The 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  447 


occupants  of  the  hall  are  three  fat  monks,  who  have  been  engrossed  in 
a  game  of  chess,  but  now  look  up  and  chuckle  with  amusement  at  the 
grotesque  look  of  their  brother.  Other  monks  come  in  behind  the 
newcomer,  but  seem  to  have  no  eyes  for  the  missionary,  being  en- 
grossed by  the  baboon.  And  the  young  convert's  face  bears  a  be- 
wildered expression,  as  if  he  knew  not  what  to  make  of  this  introduc- 
tion to  a  Christian  land.  The  contrast  between  the  austere  self- 
denial  and  spiritual  enthusiasm  of  the  monk,  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  frivolous  worldliness  and  incapacity  for  appreciation  of  his  breth- 
ren at  home,  on  the  other  hand,  is  wonderfully  given,  yet  without  that 
derisive  sneer  that  looks  through  most  of  Vilsert's  paintings. 

There  is  a  piece  of  statuary  by  a  woman,  representing  The  Struggle 
for  Work.  It  is  in  a  place  where  the  custom  is  when  more  laborers  are 
needed,  to  fling  out  among  a  crowd  of  them  as  many  tickets  as  they 
want  men.  The  ones  who  are  victorious  in  the  scramble  after  the 
tickets  get  the  work.  The  piece  represents  a  young,  strong  man  hold- 
ing up  a  ticket  in  triumph.  But  around  him  is  a  defeated  group,  and 
he  hesitates  whether  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  victory.  A  bright, 
young  fellow  is  climbing  up  and  trying  to  snatch  the  ticket  from  him. 
An  old  man  on  the  other  side  grasps  him  imploringly;  a  little  boy  of 
twelve  tags  at  his  knees.  And  a  mother  has  thrown  herself  headlong 
over  her  young  babe  in  despair.  It  is  in  the  very  spirit  of  the  times, 
and  tells  the  bitter  tale  of  the  desperate  struggle  for  the  mere  chance 
to  work. 

There  is  a  strange  French  picture,  called  The  Morphine 
Maniacs,  a  veritable  fin  de  siecle.  In  a  half  stupor  reclines  in  her 
chair  a  lady  whose  whole  expression  tells  of  the  effect  of  the  fatal 
drug.  French  novels  lie  at  her  side,  one  of  which  bears  the  title  "The 
Artificial  Paradise."  Beside  her  stands  her  buxom  maid,  evidently  a 
novice.  But  she  is  inserting  the  syringe  for  the  hypodermic  injec- 
tion into  her  own  arm,  with  a  look  of  curiosity  and  interest  that  con- 
trasts painfully  with  the  torpor  of  her  mistress's  expression,  to  which 
she  too  must  soon  come.  All  around  are  strewn  the  tools  of  the 
miserable  drug. 

While  so  much  is  being  written  about  the  Nude  in  Art  at  the  Fair, 
let  me  say  just  how  it  impresses  me.  There  are  two  or  three  such 
pictures,  all,  I  think,  in  the  French  section,  which  are  simply 
infernally  sensual.  They  reek  of  the  pit,  and  can  only  degrade  him 
who  turns  a  lingering  look  upon  them.  Then  there  are  a  number 
more  that  are  excessively  realistic  and  immodest.  They  seem  fool- 
ish and  insipid,  aud  disgust  rather  than  degrade.  But  there  are  a 
number  of  nude  paintings  that  are  as  chaste  as  they  are  beautiful. 
They  are  as  innocent  as  marble  statuary  in  showing  the  human  form 
divine,  the  most  beautiful  thing  God  has  made.  The  Birth  of  the 
Pearl  down  in  deep  ocean  is  exquisite.  I  trust  your  womanly  and 
artistic  sense  to  agree  with  me  in  this. 

The  most  beautiful  face,  however,  that  I  have  seen  in  the  whole 
collection  is  that  of  a  young  boy  in  a  group  of  pages.  It  fairly  haunts 
me  with  its  pensive  loveliness. 


1 


44^    REMINISCENCES  OF.  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Chicago,  June  iith. 

My  Dear  Mother  :— 

I  am  wearying  to  hear  from  you,  and  hope  that  to- 
morrow will  bring  me  a  letter.  This  morning  I  went  into  the  city  to 
hear  Dr.  Gunsaulus,  who  gave  a  grand  sermon  to  a  great  crowd. 

Chicago,  June  I2th,  Monday,  11.15  at  night. 
Just  in  from  Buffalo  Bill.  How  fortunate  that  while  my  head  may 
give  out,  my  legs  do  not.  This  afternoon,  "dead  tired,"  I  stopped 
seeing,  and  began  strolling  around  the  canals  and  over  bridges,  taking 
in  the  architecture.  Suddenly  I  ran  against  Florence  Thallon  with 
two  ladies  and  a  gentleman.  So  I  was  marched  off  to  lunch  with 
them. 

Chicago,  June  15th. 

My  Dear,  Lost  Mother  :— 

I  think  you  must  have  joined  Mr.  Davis's 
colony.  That,  however,  is  no  reason  why  I  should  not  hear  from  you. 
But  I  will  keep  on  writing.  I  start  for  Baltimore  to-morrow  after- 
noon reaching  there  Saturday  night.  Grandest  of  times  here.  Per- 
fect weather.    Fine  health.    I  shall  be  telegraphing  for  you  soon. 

Ned. 

Chicago,  June  15th. 

Dear  Anna: — 

Where  is  mother?  I  haven't  heard  from  her  for  two 
weeks.  I  leave  to-morrow  for  Baltimore,  so  please  send  me  word 
there  at  once. 

Your  loving  brother  Ned. 
Chicago,  June  15th. 

Dear  Agnes : — 

Where  is  mother?  I  haven't  heard  from  her  for  two 
weeks.  I  leave  for  Baltimore  to-morrow,  so  please  write  me  there 
at  once. 

Yours  truly, 

Edward  A.  Lawrence. 

Baltimore,  June  19th,  1893. 
I  reached  home  Saturday  evening  at  seven  o'clock.    Preached  yes- 
terday morning  on  the  Fair,  and  advised  people  to  go  there. 

One  of  his  hearers  writes: — "That  Mr.  Lawrence  was  a 

man  of  great  observation,  was  very  apparent  in  his  account 

of  his  trip  to  the  World's  Fair.    He  urged  everyone  who 

could  go  there  to  do  so,  as  it  was  an  education  in  itself." 

Following  Edward's  report  of  the  Fair  is  the  following 

letter  from  Rev.  Dr.  Maltbie  D.  Babcock,  now  Dr.  Van 

Dyke's  successor  in  the  Brick  Church,  New  York. 

Our  friendship  had  that  aggravating  quality  which  characterizes 
so  much  of  the  preacher's  life,  hopeful  but  fateful  incompleteness.  It 
was  always  in  the  bud,  always  offering  bright  prospects  of  walks  and 
talks,  exchanges  of  texts  and  sermon  ideas  and  experiences,  analyses 
of  books,  plans  of  church  work,    .    .    .    and  all  "when  we  get  the 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE.  JR. 


449 


time."  The  all  too  infrequent  meetings  were  always  delightful  to 
me,  enriching  my  mind  and  delighting  my  heart.  Your  son  was  one 
of  the  few  men  to  whom  I  could  open  the  door  into  the  room  where 
I  kept  my  little  private  theories,  my  personal,  as  distinguished  from 
doctrinal,  opinions,  my  doubts,  "fallings  from  us,  vanishings,"  the 
odds  and  ends,  as  well  as  the  treasures  of  my  heart's  holdings,  which 
were  not  for  daws  to  peck  at  or  peek  at.  He  never  misunderstood, 
knew  what  I  meant  before  the  thought  was  expressed,  showed  the 
ideal  but  rare  sympathy  of  "  feeling  with." 

I  never  appreciated  this  as  keenly  as  when  we  were  at  the  World's 
Fair  together  this  summer.  I  got  there  a  day  ahead  of  him,  and 
knowing  that  my  stay  was  to  be  a  short  one,  covered  as  much  ground 
as  possible.  I  was  thinking,  through  the  day,  of  his  coming,  and  how 
I,  profiting  by  my  experience,  could  map  out  for  him  a  path  of  finest, 
first  impressions. 

When  we  started  out  the  next  morning,  I  knew  just  where  we  were 
going;  he  entered  enthusiastically  into  the  idea,  and  absolutely  satis- 
fied me  with  his  fine  appreciation  and  unbounded  delight.  His  pleas- 
ure doubled  mine.  Before  the  beauty  of  the  Peristyle,  with  the  blue 
sea  and  sky  behind  it,  and  bearing  on  its  front  the  words :  "Ye  shall 
know  the  Truth,  and  the  Truth  shall  make  you  free,"  as  also  before 
that  unequalled  sight  as  we  faced  the  other  way,  .  .  the  sight  of  the 
matchless  Court  of  Honor,  of  that  vision  of  architectural  dreams 
come  true,  to  be  compared  only  with  what  John  saw  at  Patmos,  .  . 
he  stood  in  silence,  rapt,  unbroken,  except  by  the  little  groans  of 
ecstasy,  "groanings  which  cannot  be  uttered,"  as  truly  prompted  by 
the  Spirit,  who  loves  the  Holiness  of  Beauty,  and  helps  our  infirm- 
ities in  enjoyment,  as  those  awakened  by  the  Spirit  who  loves  the 
Beauty  of  Holiness,  and  helps  our  infirmities  in  aspiration. 

In  the  Art  Gallery  the  pleasure  continued.  I  saved  him  from  the 
things  which  were  not  worth  seeing,  to  be  rewarded  by  his  delight  in 
the  things  that  were  worth  seeing.  He  told  me,  after  his  return  to 
Baltimore,  that  he  went  back  again  and  again  to  the  paintings  and 
statuary  that  we  had  enjoyed  together  and  with  only  deepening  satis- 
faction. 

One  afternoon  as  we  were  resting  in  the  parlor  of  the  New  York 
State  Building,  I  was  playing  the  piano  and  he  was  sitting  close  by  in 
an  easy  chair,  writing.  I  thought  he  was  figuring  up  accounts  or 
something  of  the  kind.  Turning  to  him,  I  said,  "What  are  you  do- 
ing there?"    "Writing  to  my  mother." 

We  had  many  a  good  laugh  together  over  the  queer  people  we  saw, 
and  the  amusing  comments  we  overheard ;  many  a  good  laugh  over 
the  equitable  division  of  the  towels  and  bureau  drawers  and  hooks  on 
the  walls  in  the  room  we  shared  at  the  South  Shore  Hotel ;  many  a 
serious  word  as  we  rode  to  and  fro  on  the  cars,  or  sat  at  the  table, 
or  dressed  or  undressed  in  our  room ;  many  an  uplifting  thought  as 
we  prayed  together. 

I  cannot  think  of  him  as  dead.  I  am  glad  I  cannot.  He  is  "alive 
unto  God."  "For  all  live  unto  Him."  I  will  think  of  him  as  more 
my  friend  than  ever.  The  bud  of  regard  and  afTection  which  had  no 
chance  here  to  unfold  will  one  day  open,  in  the  land  that  seems  less 
far  away  than  it  used  to,  in  "the  ampler  ether,  the  diviner  air"  of  the 


450    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Heavenly  Country.  "To  be  continued  in  our  next,"  and  never  to 
reach  a  "finis,"  is  the  sweet  and  blessed  outlook,  guaranteed  by  the 
God  of  Love,  "Who  satisfieth  the  longing  soul,  and  filleth  the  hungry 
soul  with  goodness." 

Ever,  more  than  ever,  your  son's  friend  and  yours, 

Maltbie  D.  Babcock. 

A  few  words  are  added  from  Mrs.  Babcock,  whose  home, 
until  her  marriage,  was  in  Poughkeepsie: — 

"I  remember  your  husband  perfectly,  and  my  father  and 
I  often  recall  a  most  striking  and  beautiful  sermon  he  once 
preached  in  our  church  in  Poughkeepsie. 

"And  I  have  known  your  son  since  I  was  a  young  girl. 
Often  in  our  school  examinations  he  was  the  one  to  ques- 
tion me,  and  his  kind  face  and  interested,  encouraging  look 
reassured  me.  I  have  never  known  any  one  whom  all  peo- 
ple believed  in  at  once  as  they  did  in  him.'' 

In  July,  1893,  David  and  Jonathan,  Frank  Luckey  and 
Mr.  Davis,  a  new  member  of  the  company,  started  on  their 
Adirondack  trip,  which  proved  the  last  that  Edward  was  to 
take. 

Elm  Lake,  Jones  House,  July  21st. 
On  the  narrow  guage  road  we  puffed  away  up  the  hills  to  Ham- 
mondville.    It  was  hard  to  find  teams,  but  at  Root's  we  took  two 
fresh  horses,  and  at  about  half  past  three  were  at  Fenton's.  Then 
began  the  climb.    With  knapsacks  on  backs  we  worked  up  the  hills. 

Saturday,  8  P.  M. 
Luckey  and  Davis  slept  little  last  night,  owing  to  mosquitoes.  They 
were  up  and  thrashing  round  most  of  t):e  night,  but  we  two  veterans 
slept,  of  course.  Breakfasted  at  six,  across  the  lake  in  a  large  boat, 
and  then  the  tramp  began.  On  over  the  ridge  of  the  Boreas  moun- 
tains, then  off  from  the  trail  through  the  wild  woods.  But  no  boat, 
so  a  wild  rush.  Now  the  clouds  gather.  They  threaten.  They  pour. 
No  choice  but  to  push  on.  Water  from  the  skies,  from  the  trees, 
from  the  earth.  At  last  the  lake,  then  a  camp,  then  clear  weather. 
Cries  and  shots  call  for  boats.  At  last  one  appears  with  a  man  who 
proves  the  owner  of  a  camp.  He  is  the  forester,  and  has  a  new  log 
house.  Yes,  we  can  stay  with  him  over  Sunday — provisions  and  all 
furnished.  So  we  sleep  in  doors,  in  four  cots,  the  first  time  on  Au- 
sable  Pond  when  we  have  not  slept  on  balsam  boughs  in  an  open 
camp. 

Sunday,  half  past  three. 
It  is  a  rainy  day,  but  we  are  well  housed.    About  ten,  four  came, 
when  we  listened  to  a  sermon  from  Luckey.    Since  then  we  have 
been  discussing  theology. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  45 1 


The  Hemlocks,  July  31st,  1593. 

As  we  entered  our  rootns.  Saturday  evening,  there  was  a  wrestling 
match  which  threw  Jonathan  and  Mr.  Davis  on  the  bed,  breaking  one 
of  the  slats,  calling  up  the  landlord  and  rousing  the  sleeping  ladies 
next  door  and  above,  who  left  their  rooms,  not  knowing  what  was  to 
happen.  When  they  found  that  not  only  one  but  all  of  our  party  were 
clergymen,  you  can  imagine  their  relief  and  their  amazement.  Some 
seventy-five  were  out  last  night  at  the  church,  nearly  filling  it.  After 
I  had  preached,  I  called  on  each  of  the  others  to  speak,  which  they 
did  very  impressively.  The  good  brother  there,  who  lives  on  $300  a 
year,  seemed  much  helped  by  our  presence.  This  morning  the  ladies 
of  the  hotel  were  up  to  see  us  off. 

Camp  Craig.  This  is  an  old  home  of  ours  and  is  made  especially 
pleasant  by  the  number  of  friends  camping  near  us.  Chief  among 
these  are  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sellig,  whom  mother  will  remember  my  call- 
ing on  in  Philadelphia.  They  camp  on  a  fine  island  with  a  Mr.  But- 
ton, seventy-three  years  old,  who  has  been  coming  to  the  woods  since 
1858.  He  hurried  on  alone  this  year,  as  he  told  them  afterwards, 
that  he  might  lift  up  his  hands  to  heaven  and  thank  his  Maker  for 
sparing  him  to  come  here  once  more. 

I  must  tell  you  about  our  Sunday  service,  the  most  characteristic 
of  all  yet.  Word  was  sent  round  to  all  the  camps  the  night  before 
that  service  would  be  held  here  at  eleven.  There  is  a  rustic  house  on 
a  rocky  point,  jutting  out  into  the  lake.  About  half  past  ten  the 
boats  began  to  come,  straggling  along  from  all  directions  until  we  had 
an  audience  of  about  fifty  in  the  room  and  on  the  porch,  with  about 
a  dozen  boats  at  the  dock.  Every  one  of  the  clergymen  was  worked 
in,  and  Jonathan  preached  an  excellent  sermon. 

I  thank  you,  dear  mother,  for  taking  all  that  trouble  about  the  let- 
ters, which  Lowry  and  I  shall  greatly  enjoy  reading  over.  It  is  very 
sweet  to  me  to  think  of  your  all  being  together.  We  all  went  to  the 
little  Wesleyan  church  in  the  village.  At  the  close,  the  minister 
lighted  on  us  four  tramps  and  asked  me  to  preach  in  the  evening.  I 
was  the  solitary  man  that  had  on  a  white  collar,  you  see. 

I  am  sorry  you  are  not  yet  out  of  the  woods,  but  there  must  be 
some  way  which  your  inventiveness  and  perseverance  will  discover. 
I  regret  that  you  have  been  so  hindered  in  your  work  on  father's 
Memorial.  There  is  no  need  of  your  copying  legible  letters,  and  I 
will  help  you  sort  them,  and  Lowry  and  I  can  read  some  of  the  letters 
together.  We  must  care  for  you  and  lift  your  burdens.  We  need 
your  strength  and  time  for  other  things. 

As  you  lose  your  way  so  in  getting  about,  I  might  bring  you  home 
an  Adirondack  guide.    But  his  charge  is  three  dollars  a  day. 

I  should  dislike  to  break  up  Mr.  Hall's  trip,  dear  mother,  but  if  you 
feel  that  it  is  best  for  me  to  come  home,  don't  fail  to  let  me  know  it. 

Old  Forge,  Herkimer  Co.,  Aug.  3rd,  1893. 
On  reaching  here,  I  found  your  letters  awaiting  me,  and  one  from 
Mr.  Broughton,  desiring  me  to  speak  on  Crocker  Park. 

Aug.  3rd. 

My  Dear  Sister  : — 

What  a  household  you  have !    And  what  problems  to 
solve,  not  only  the  boy-problem  in  Wallace,  but  the  girl-problem  in 


452   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


the  kitchen,  and  the  life-problem  all  round !  If  we  lack  wisdom,  we 
may  seek  it  from  above.  After  the  ends  of  life  are  chosen  by  love, 
wisdom  is  the  principal  thing. 

To-day  we  ran  our  two  boats  down  to  the  old  Forge  and  back, 
about  twenty-five  miles,  the  length  of  the  chain  of  lakes.  There  is  no 
exercise  like  it.  You  see  both  may  always  be  employed,  one  in  row- 
ing, the  other  in  paddling.  Exercise  is  thus  provided  for  the  chest, 
the  back  and  the  arm,  the  fore-arm  and  the  whole  body.  Then  we 
tramp  and  carry  packs  on  the  back.  What  talks  we  have  on  all  pos- 
sible topics  from  theology  and  marriage  to  boat  building  and  Wall 
Street ! 

Edward  had  engaged  to  preach  at  Nanepashemet  on 
Aug.  20th  and  27th.  There  had  come  from  Beverly  an 
urgent  call  for  him  to  supply  the  pulpit  of  Washington  St. 
on  the  preceding  Sabbath. 

Old  Forge,  Aug.  4th  1893. 
Your  three  letters  of  yesterday,  my  dear  mother,  came  in  to-night, 
and  have  caused  me  some  perplexity  on  Mr.  Hall's  account.  If  it 
would  trouble  him  or  shorten  his  stay,  I  should  prefer  not  to  come. 
But  he  says,  "Go,  if  that  is  the  better  thing,  as  your  mother  wishes." 
So  you  may  write  Beverly  to  that  effect.  It  seems  strange  to  have 
such  mail  facilities,  and  I  am  making  unwonted  use  of  them.  But  I 
was  always  tl.e  letter  writer  of  the  party.  It  is  pleasant  to  get  news 
of  your  comings  and  goings  and  doings.  We  will  talk  over  a  great 
many  things  when  I  get  home. 

Camp  Craig,  Aug.  7th,  1893. 
There  is  not  in  camp  a  happier  man  than  I,  for  I  am  the  owner  of 
a  budget  of  letters  just  arrived.  I  have  never  been  better  physically  in 
the  woods,  and  could  never  carry  the  boat  better.  I  find  it  difficult 
to  get  a  sensation  of  thorough  fatigue,  no  matter  how  much  I  may  do. 
Both  Mr.  Hall  and  I  carried  the  Nannie  O.  a  mile  and  three-quarters 
the  other  day.  Remember  that  it  weighs  seventy-seven  pounds.  Our 
carrying  is  over  now,  as  we  go  out  from  this  lake,  every  day  tramp- 
ing off  to  some  new  lake  or  pond.  And  I  am  expected  to  n^ake  the 
plans  for  the  party. 

Camp  Craig,  Aug.  loth. 
This  is  my  last  letter,  as  the  living  epistle  will  set  forth  to-morrow. 
I  ought  to  reach  you  about  half  past  eight  in  the  electric  car  from 
Salem.    Your  company  seems  to  be  streaming  in.    Now  I  must  start 
out  and  see  what  plans  are  to  be  made  for  our  last  day. 

The  following  is  a  letter  from  Rev.  Mr.  Davis: — 

Mr.  Lawrence  was  the  strongest  one  of  our  party.  After  a  hard 
day's  row  over  the  lakes,  or  a  steep  climb  over  some  mountain,  he 
seemed  almost  as  fresh  as  at.  the  start.  He  made  an  ideal  companion 
for  such  a  trip.  He  was  always  ready  to  be  the  boy  and  to  enter  into 
all  the  sports  and  pleasures  that  characterize  such  an  outing.  He 
was  a  born  athlete,  and  a  man  that  could  not  but  be  popular  with 
his  fellows.  No  one  it  has  been  my  pleasure  to  know  seemed  to  en- 
ter more  deeply  and  heartily  into  the  enjoyment  of  scenery.    Well  do 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  453 


I  remember  the  way  his  face  Hghted  up  as  with  interior  sunshine, 
when  we  reached  the  summit  of  Mt.  Marcy!  He  looked  all  around 
the  horizon  at  the  panorama  of  lakes  and  mountains,  and  exclaimed, 
"Beautiful,  beautiful !"  Some  such  spiritual  vision  must  have  been 
granted  to  him  when  he  uttered  the  same  words  at  the  last.  He  al- 
ways impressed  me  as  being  a  man  of  wonderfully  keen  intellect.  In 
our  theological  discussions  (and,  of  course,  four  clergymen  make  an 
itinerant  theological  school)  he  seemed  always  master  of  the  subject, 
and  to  say  the  satisfactory  and  discriminating  word.  He  seemed  to 
have  a  fund  of  sanctified  common  sense.  He  was  at  home  in  all  the 
subtleties  and  intricacies  of  theological  debate.  His  lectures  at  Yale, 
which  it  was  my  pleasure  to  hear,  are  a  missionary  classic.  Mr.  Law- 
rence was  above  all  things  else  a  man  of  iine  Christian  character, 
manly,  intelligent,  noble  and  grand.  He  had  consecrated  all  his  pow- 
ers for  the  good  of  the  world.  He  carried  a  Christian  atmosphere 
with  him  wherever  he  went.  I  can  never  forget  his  morning  and 
evening  prayers  in  the  woods.  We  would  stop  while  on  the  march 
and  read  the  Bible,  and  discuss  the  chapter  we  read,  after  which  we 
would  have  a  prayer.  Mr.  Lawrence's  prayers  make  you  feel  that 
out  there  in  the  wilderness  it  was  none  other  than  "the  hou.se  of  God, 
the  gate  of  heaven !"  Noble  soul !  Heaven  was  richer  and  earth 
poorer  when  you  answered  the  Master's  summons.  The  Lawrence 
House  in  Baltimore  is  as  fine  a  monument  as  any  man  could  desire. 
Its  Christlike  work  will  be  a  constant  benediction  to  multitudes,  as 
well  as  a  beautiful  memory  of  him.  It  was  an  honor  to  be  the  mother 
of  such  a  son. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


LAST   SUMMER   VISIT   AT  LINDEN  HOME. 

Faith  knows  omnipotence  has  heard  her  prayer, 
And  cries  "it  shall  be  done,"  sometime,  somewhere. 

— Browning. 

On  a  Saturday  morning,  August  12th,  there  were  many 
friends  to  give  the  wanderer  a  welcome  to  the  home  Unter 
den  Linden.  According  to  his  appointtnent,  he  supphed 
the  Washington  St.  Church  at  Beverly  the  next  day.  Of 
this  Sabbath  Miss  Tracy,  whose  house  had  long  been  one 
of  his  Beverly  homes,  writes: — 

It  is  interesting  to  recall  that  on  the  last  occasion  of  Mr.  Law- 
rence's holding  service  in  our  church,  Ex-President  Hayes  and  Ex- 
Governor  Claflin  were  present.  In  the  evening,  the  discourse  was 
from  the  words,  "Behold,  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock."  I  shall  al- 
ways be  grateful  for  the  privilege  of  listening  to  that  discourse,  and 
Mrs.  Flanders,  who  was  there,  was  also  deeply  moved  by  it. 

At  that  time  he  left  us  with  words  that  were  a  benediction.  How 
little  he  thought  the  farewell  was  a  final  one !  Yet  we  are  richer  for 
having  entertained  an  angel  unawares.  Whenever  I  think  of  him,  it 
is  as  if  an  influence  from  heaven  comes  to  me.  He  seemed  so  per- 
fectly to  have  put  on  the  Lord  Jesus,  so  reflecting  the  image  of  his 
Saviour,  so  devoted  to  Christ's  work  of  raising  the  fallen,  so  mindful 
of  others  and  so  forgetful  of  self. 

The  days  that  followed  were  most  pleasantly  filled  up 
with  reading,  music,  lively  discussions  on  matters  aestheti- 
cal,  political,  theological  and  reformatory,  rowing  in  a  boat 
on  the  fine  harbor,  and  various  little  excursions,  including  a 
picnic  on  the  rocks  of  the  old  fort  of  revolutionary  associa- 
tions. 

Tlie  remaining  two  Sundays  of  his  vacation  Edward 
preached  in  the  little  chapel  on  Marblehead  Neck,  now 
called  by  its  Indian  name,  Nanepashemet,  and  also  spoke 
at  Crocker  Park. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


455 


From  Mr.  Frank  Broughton,  Secretary  of  the  Marble- 
head  Y.  M.  C.  A.,  who  was  in  charge  of  the  Sunday 
meetings  on  Crocker  Park: — 

It  always  did  me  good  whenever  I  met  j'our  son.  He  was  an  ideal 
Christian  minister,  and  no  one  could  come  in  contact  with  him  with- 
out being  blest.  When  we  heard  of  his  sickness,  a  man  who  is  on 
the  water  a  great  deal,  but  who  attended  our  out-door  meetings,  met 
me  and  asked  anxiously  about  him,  earnestly  hoping  he  would  get 
well,  for  he  said,  "I  heard  him  speak  at  Crocker  Park,  and  he's  just 
the  kind  of  a  man  I  like  to  hear,  and  we  can't  afford  to  lose  no  such  a 
good  man  as  that."   This  man  seldom  if  ever  goes  to  church. 

I  enclose  a  copy  of  the  paper  published  in  connection  with  our  work 
during  the  summer.  The  verses  were  written  by  a  young  man  who 
came  from  England  to  Marblehead  and  is  learning  the  blacksmith 
trade.  He  became  a  Christian  just  before  leaving  home.  You,  of 
course,  remember  your  son's  sermon  at  Crocker  Park,  "He  came  unto 
his  own,  and  his  own  received  him  not."  This  so  impressed  the 
young  man  that  he  wrote  the  following  verses  which  I  send  you : — 

Though  a  dull  afternoon  on  Sunday  last, 

A  crowd  assembled  there 
To  hear  the  words  of  the  Gospel  preached 

By  a  man  in  the  open  air. 

He  stood  on  a  rock  and  all  could  see 

When  he  lifted  his  hands  in  prayer, 
Then  opened  his  book  and  read  these  words 

To  the  people  standing  there : 

"He  came,  but  his  own  received  him  not," 

Rose  from  his  voice  so  clear. 
He  then  explained  how  once  these  words 

Were  said  of  our  Saviour  dear. 

He  told  them  how  he  was  once  called  home 

To  his  dying  father's  side. 
And  how  that  his  own  received  his  own ; 

Yet  Jesus  was  cast  aside. 

Hard  was  the  heart  that  was  not  touched 

Ere  that  sermon  closed  in  prayer. 
How  many  there  were  claimed  Christ  as  their  own 

Out  in  the  open  air ! 

— T.  A.  P. 

From    Mrs.  Mary  H.  L.  Whitcomb,  wliose  summer 

home  for  many  years  was  on  Marblehead  Neck,  but  whose 

home  is  now  in  the  heavenly  mansions : — 

Your  son,  our  friend,  seemed  so  identified  with  our  summer  lift 
that  we  cannot  fully  realize  that  he  is  to  be  of  it  no  more.    I  cannot 


556   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


recall  whtn  we  first  met  our  new-found  relative,  your  husband,  but 
I  know  that  you  all  came  into  our  lives  very  pleasantly. 

I  think  your  son  has  preached  at  the  "hall"  every  summer  since 
we  have  been  at  Marblehead  Neck,  except  when  he  was  out  of  the 
country.  .And  his  coming  has  always  been  anticipated  by  all  the  con- 
gregation. I  remember  often  hearing  our  young  people,  who  were 
planning  to  go  to  the  old  Episcopal  Church  or  to  Lynn  or  Salem  for 
some  service,  say,  "We  cannot  go  on  such  a  Sunday,  because  Mr. 
Lawrence  is  coming  here,  and  we  cannot  miss  hearing  him.  When 
he  preached  last  summer,  the  wish  was  expressed  that  he  might  give 
us  a  month  the  coming  season.  He  was  always  welcome,  whether  he 
came  socially  or  officially.  The  memory  of  his  visits  to  us  is  very 
pleasant,  and  our  sons  and  daughters  anticipated  his  coming,  and  en- 
joyed his  conversation  as  much  as  my  husband  and  I  did.  He  al- 
ways seemed  to  have  just  the  right  word  for  old  and  young. 

Mrs.  Caroline  E.  Tyler,  of  Northampton,  was  a  former 
resident  of  East  Windsor  Hill,  her  husband  being  Rev. 
Ellery  Tyler,  a  brother  of  Josiah  Tyler,  for  many  years  a 
devoted  missionary  in  Africa.  She  had  known  Edward  as 
a  boy,  but  had  not  seen  him  since  that  time.  Passing  a  few 
weeks  on  Marblehead  Neck,  she  attended  service  in  the 
little  chapel,  and  found  that  Edward  Lawrence  was  the 
preacher.    She  writes: — 

Of  course,  he  did  not  recognize  me,  but  when  I  was  introduced  as 
an  old  friend  and  neighbor,  the  cordial,  genial  manner  of  the  father, 
whom  so  many  loved  and  admired,  seemed  to  me  mirrored  in  the  son. 
It  was  my  privilege  to  hear  him  preach  twice,  and  never  shall  I 
forget  his  impressive  way  of  presenting  truth,  or  his  eloquent  appeal 
to  his  hearers.  I  think  the  enthusiasm  with  which  the  announcement 
that  he  was  to  preach  in  the  little  chapel  was  greeted,  was  eulogy 
enough.  I  have  often  recalled  his  sermon  from  the  text,  "How  much 
better  is  a  man  than  a  sheep!"  Such  an  appeal  from  man  for  his 
fellowmen  I  never  heard.  T  felt  that  he  must  be  deeply  interested 
in  the  social  problems  of  life,  though  I  did  not  then  know  how  he  had 
given  himself  to  the  work. 

It  was  beautiful  to  witness  your  son's  devotion  to  you,  his  antici- 
pation of  your  wants,  and  his  readiness  to  render  those  little  services 
so  dear  to  a  mother's  heart.  And  now  the  strong  arm  on  which  you 
leaned  is  gone,  and  the  words  of  tenderness  are  hushed.  May  the 
same  love  which  has  strengthened  you  in  times  past,  support  and 
comfort  you  now ! 

From  Rev.  J.  M.  Marston,  who  spends  his  summers  in 

Nanepashemet : — 

Your  son's  loss  is  that  of  the  whole  country  and  of  the  American 
Church.  I  had  come  to  regard  him  as  one  of  our  foremost  spiritual 
men,  as  in  deed  and  in  truth  one  of  the  resplendent  candlesticks  of 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


457 


the  Christian  Tabernacle.  He  was  eloquent,  body  and  soul,  from  his 
fine  brain  clear  down  to  the  nerves  of  his  feet..  He  was  thought, 
emotion,  bodily  power,  all  bound  together.  I  shall  never  forget  his 
beautiful  advents  to  our  little  hall,  where  he  always  made  the  place 
ring  with  almost  celestial  voices. 

I  have  heard  six  specimens  of  your  race, — Dr.  Leonard  Woods,  Dr. 
Thomas  M.  Smith,  John  Cotton  Smith,  his  son,  Roland  Smith,  Presi- 
dent Woods  and  your  son.  It  was  a  privilege  to  hear  them  all.  Your 
brother  preached  one  of  the  most  eloquent  sermons  I  ever  listened  to. 
And  it  must  be  a  comfort  to  you  to  know  that  his  nephew  followed 
close  upon  his  footsteps.    Alas !  the  loss  is  not  to  be  repaired. 

From  Mrs.  Shannon,  of  Roxbury: — 

M}'  first  meeting  with  your  son  was  at  the  station  in  Marblehead, 
whither  he  had  come  to  escort  me,  as  a  guest,  to  your  home.  There 
was  in  his  personality  and  cordial  greetings  a  charm  which  won  my 
heart  at  once.  In  that  visit,  which  included  a  Sabbath,  I  read  his  life 
as  an  open  book,  and  was  impressed  with  its  beauty  and  fullness. 
How  much  he  enjoyed  social  intercourse  with  friends,  and  how  often 
he  enlivened  it  with  unexpected  touches  of  quiet  humor  of  which  he 
vvas  master !  ?Iow  beautiful  and  reverent  was  his  manner  to  you  ex- 
pressed in  so  many  delicate  and  gracious  ways — the  tribute  of  a 
noble  manhood  to  the  love  and  care  that  had  blessed  his  life. 

The  courtesy  and  grace  of  a  Christian  gentleman  marked  his  de- 
meanor to  each  and  all.  In  the  pulpit  we  recognized  a  man  of  power. 
The  long  continued  and  loving  study  of  the  divine  character  resulted 
in  a  marked  spiritual  elevation  and  the  service  was  no  formal  one.  He 
seemed  in  direct  and  living  sympathy  with  human  life  and  its  needs, 
and  had  an  end  to  gain  with  the  men  and  women  before  him.. 

As  I  think  of  him  he  stands  before  me  as  an  ideal  man.  We  can 
but  feel  that  he  has  found  a  sphere  where  a  career  awaits  him  ade- 
quate to  his  powers  and  aspirations. 

From  Mrs.  Helen  M.  Gulliver,  a  teacher  for  many  years 
in  Mt.  Holyoke  Seminary,  and  now  connected  with  the 
Woman's  Board: — 

In  memory  I  go  back  to  the  time  when  I  first  saw  your  son  in  i860, 
Miss  Chapin  having  invited  you  all  to  spend  Thanksgiving  with  us  at 
the  Seminary.  He  impressed  me  then  and  afterwards  when  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  spending  a  few  days  in  your  family  at  East  Windsor  Hill, 
as  a  lad  of  great  promise.  One  could  but  admire  his  exquisite  man- 
ners, his  gentleness  and  sweetness,  with  his  thoughtfulness  for  others. 
His  conversation  even  then,  although  he  was  but  thirteen,  revealed 
his  mental  ability  and  the  habit  of  laying  up  stores  of  useful  informa- 
tion. From  that  time  until  that  delightful  Sabbath  with  you  in  Sep- 
tember, I  had  not  met  him. 

I  shall  long  remember  that  pleasant  Sabbath  morning  in  the  chapel 
on  R'larblehead  Neck.  His  prayer  was  the  coming  of  a  son  to  a  be- 
loved Father,  and  he  took  us  all  into  the  secret  of  his  presence. 

You  will  recall  that  the  heavy  rain  of  the  next  day  detained  us  in 
your  hospitable  home,  when  we  learned  the  social  qualities  of  your 


458   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


son.  He  had  much  to  give  us  from  his  full  stores.  How  finely  he 
rendered  Brownings'  Hcnr  Rid,  when  we  gathered  round  the  even- 
mg  lamp!  With  what  heartiness  he  joined  his  sister  in  the  songs 
which  gave  us  so  much  pleasure !  I  was  struck  with  his  readiness  to 
grapple  with  the  social  problems  of  the  time,  and  with  the  hopeful  • 
ness  that  characterized  him. 

From  James  Buckham  : — 

I  feel  as  if  a  shadow  had  lain  across  my  life  since  the  fatal  news 
reached  me.  I  had  hoped  for  such  sweet  and  profitable  companion- 
ship with  your  son,  such  inspiration  out  of  his  clear-seeing  soul,  such 
helps  to  nobler  living  out  of  his  great,  earnest,  lovable,  manly  life. 
And  now— I  can  hardly  realize  that  that  firm,  sweet  voice  is  still,  and 
those  frank,  tender  eyes  closed,  and  those  man-loving,  man-helping 
hands  folded  in  the  long  slumber.  And  yet  I  know  that  the  spirit- 
voice  and  the  spirit-eyes  and  the  spirit-hands  somewhere  in  God's 
great  universe  are  doing  in  larger  ways  the  good  they  began  to  do  in 
this  little,  changeful,  passing  world. 

From  Miss  Julia  E.  Ward,  for  some  years  a  highly  es- 
teemed Principal  in  Mt.  Holyoke  Seminary: — 

My  most  vivid  and  definite  impression  of  Edward  Lawrence  is  of 
his  symmetry  of  mind  and  character.  So  marked  was  this  that  a 
superficial  knowledge  might  fail  to  reveal  his  latent  power.  He  was 
an  ideal  son,  an  ideal  brother,  an  ideal  friend. 

What  seasons  of  privilege  to  us  all  were  those  summer  Sundays 
when  he  preached  in  the  little  chapel  on  the  Neck!  The  morning 
prayer  at  the  home  altar,  the  public  service  in  the  chapel,  or  later,  in 
Crocker  Park,  where  green  of  turf,  gray  of  rock,  and  blue  of  sky  com- 
bined to  make  a  never-to-be-forgotten  picture, — all  was  tender,  sym- 
pathetic, uplifting.  The  tonic  quality  of  his  preaching  was  tempered 
with  something  of  that  ''wise  passiveness"  which  this  turbulent  age 
so  lacks,  and  yet  unconsciously  craves.  His  large,  rich  individuality 
acted  as  a  solvent  on  the  best  of  Browning  and  Wordsworth,  and 
thus  made  others  sharers  in  the  springs  at  which  his  own  spiritual 
being  had  been  nourished.  And  all  was  crowned  by  that  higher  wis- 
dom which  he  had  learned  at  the  feet  of  the  Master. 

"He  walked  with  God  and  he  was  not  for  God  took  him." 

From  Nathan  Haskell  Dole: — 

"Hedgecote,"  Jamaica  Plain. 
My  one  brief  visit  under  your  hospitable  roof  stands  out  distinct  as 
the  beginning  of  what  I  hoped  would  be  a  new  and  valued  friendship. 
Twice  that  Sunday  I  heard  your  son  speak  in  public :  in  the  morning 
in  the  little  chapel  on  the  Neck,  and,  just  at  sunset,  in  the  open  air  in 
the  beautiful  park  overlooking  the  harbor.  On  each  occasion  the  se- 
cret of  his  success  as  a  minister  was  perfectly  transparent ;  he  had  a 
fine  presence,  a  musical  voice,  a  kindling  eye,  and  his  thought  was 
broad,  liberal,  genuine,  earnest,  full  of  humanity  and  love.  He  was 
a  man  who  would  sacrifice  any  interest  of  personal  moment,  all  con- 
venience, his  strength,  his  time,  his  peculiarly  elevated  culture,  musi- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  459 


cal,  literary,  artistic,  for  the  sake  of  his  fellows.  His  earnestness  was 
evident  in  every  tone  of  his  voice  as  he  stood  under  the  glowing  sun- 
set sky,  and  spoke  so  simply  and  eloquently  of  things  divine  to  the 
hushed  and  attracted  throng.  It  was  just  the  kind  of  preaching  that 
"the  people"  need. 

Of  personal  talk  with  Mr.  Lawrence  I  naturally  had  but  little,  as  he 
was  occupied  in  preparing  for  the  two  services.  But  I  remember  his 
sitting  down  at  the  piano  and  singing  most  delightfully,  and  when  I 
had  to  take  an  evening  train,  he  walked  with  me  to  the  station, 
and  his  friendliness,  cordial  interest  in  my  work,  and  warm-hearted 
sympathy  with  all  things  true  and  beautiful  strongly  impressed  me. 

Some  men  need  long  sieges  before  they  open  the  citadel  of  their 
inner  natures.  Mr.  Lawrence  seemed  won  to  you  at  once.  His  was  a 
transparent  heart,  and  any  one  could  see  that  he  was  true,  generous, 
simple,  noble,  that  he  had  reached  that  virtue  which  old  Bonaventura 
calls  the  virtus  purgati  defecatique  animi — free  from  earthly  taint  of 
selfishness. 

That  vi.sit  of  Edward's  at  Linden  Home  is  a  precious 
memory.  The  evenings  in  the  sunrise  room,  where  he  read 
to  us,  or  recited  poetry,  and  the  Sunday  visits  from  Mrs. 
Shannon  and  Mrs.  Tucker,  from  Miss  Ward  and  Mrs. 
Gulliver,  and  from  James  Buckham  and  Mr.  Dole;  are  they 
not  all  written  in  the  book  of  remembrance?  His  niece, 
Florence  Pray,  was  also  here  for  a  time,  and  other  friends. 
His  services  in  Nanepashemet  chapel,  with  his  open-air 
talks  at  Crocker  Park,  were  all  warmly  appreciated.  How 
httle  did  anyone  dream  that  this  was  his  last  summer  on 
earth ! 

It  had  been  decided  that  Anita  and  Lowry  Nunn  should 
go  to  the  World's  Fair,  but  the  mother,  at  her  great  age, — 
that  was  another  thing!  After  much  discussion,  however, 
Edward  casting  the  affirmative  vote,  it  was  concluded  that 
she  might  accompany  them.  After  his  return  to  Baltimore, 
he  writes  her: — "What  I  send  will,  I  think,  carry  you 
through,  although  you  had  better  take  along  whatever  you 
may  have.  Look  out  for  your  pocket  book  in  the  sleepers 
and  hotels.  I  will  write  you  at  the  Woman's  Dormitory.  I 
shall  pray  for  you  every  day  and  follow  you  in  my 
thoughts." 


460   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Early  in  September,  the  three  started  for  Chicago,  a 
friend,  Mrs.  Neilson,  joining  them  in  Boston.  They  were 
armed  with  Edward's  marked  catalogues  and  comments 
and  with  his  general  directions.  And  at  the  Woman's  Dor- 
mitory, September  6th,  a  missive  came  from  him: — 

"Dear  Mother,  The  combination  card  was  received  this 
morning  with  gladness.  I  shall  hope  for  one  every  day. 
Be  sure  to  study  the  Reform  garments  in  the  Woman's 
Building,  up-stairs.  I  take  tea  to-night  with  the  Nunns  at 
Broadway." 

Baltimore,  Sept.  13th. 
Do  not  think  of  leaving  before  Wednesday  evening  of  next  w^eek. 
That  will  give  you  a  day  at  Niagara  and  a  day  with  the  Wilkinsons 
at  Newburgh,  and  bring  you  home  Saturday  night.    I  am  delighted 
that  you  hold  out  so  well. 

Sept.  20th. 

The  rest  of  your  journal  has  just  arrived,  and  the  whole  of  it  gives 
an  admirable  account  of  your  trip.  I  was  especially  glad  to  hear 
about  Niagara.  I  felt  sure  that  Lowry  would  say  it  was  grander  even 
than  the  Fair.  And  now  you  are  back  again  with  all  the  added  store 
of  memories.  I  hope  you  enjoyed  my  special  pictures,  of  which  I 
wrote.  You  two  will  now  settle  down  for  a  quiet  three  weeks  before 
Lowry's  Boston  work  commences. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  Lowry  should  enter  Emerson's 
College,  going  in  every  day  from  Linden  Home.  Mean- 
time there  were  many  preparations  to  be  made. 

Sept.  27th,  1893. 

You  are  a  dear,  good  mother,  and  are  doing  all  you  can  for  your 
son.  I  thank  God  for  sparing  you  for  this  time.  Your  journal  tells 
me  much  about  Lowry,  of  which  she  is  too  modest  to  speak  herself. 
As  you  understand,  such  new  relations  take  a  little  time  before  they 
fit  into  all  the  old  ones,  but  they  will  surely  do  so  in  the  end,  making 
them  all  the  stronger. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


CLOSING  DAYS   IN  BALTIMORE. 

It  is  the  deliberate  verdict  of  the  Lord  Jesus  that  it  is  better  not  to 
live  than  not  to  love. 

— Henry  Drummond. 

On  his  return  to  Baltimore,  Edward  entered  into  his 
work  with  fresh  zeal,  taking  up  his  residence  in  his  old  room 
at  Winans'  Tenements.  And  when,  later,  there  came  the 
probability  of  his  leaving  the  city,  his  interest  in  the  church 
so  dear  to  him  seemed  increased,  rather  than  diminished. 
And  there  was  certainly  no  lessening  of  his  efiforts  to  seek 
and  impart  light  in  the  line  of  Christian  Sociology. 

This  is  made  evident  by  the  following  list  of  his  Sunday 
evening  discourses : 

An  illustrated  sermon  on  Jesus,  the  carpenter,  or  Christianity  and 
Labor,  the  pictures  being  by  Hunt,  Durer,  Hoffman,  Millet,  Breton, 
Raphael,  and  others. 

"  The  Laborer  is  worthy  of  his  Hire." — Luke  10:7. 

"The  Duties  of  Employers  aud  the  Employed." — Col.  3  :22.-41  :1. 

"  The  Part  of  the  Church  in  Social  reform." — Isaiah  62  : 1. 

"  The  Starting  Points  of  the  Republic."    An  illustrated  Discourse. 

From  these  sermons  a  few  extracts  are  taken: — 

The  duties  of  both  master  and  servant  may  be  summed  up  in  two 
words, — Brotherhood,  Partnership,  though  the  latter  is  really  in- 
cluded in  the  former.  We  are  all  the  children  of  one  common  Father. 
We  are  all  in  the  brotherhood  of  humanity.  The  whole  solution  of 
the  problem  of  labor  and  capital  is  involved  in  the  application  of  the 
principle  of  brotherhood.  This  will  prevent  our  treating  one  another 
as  machines.  The  master  will  not  think  of  his  servant  as  a  mere  com- 
modity which  he  may  buy  and  sell  and  treat  as  he  pleases,  provided 
only  that  he  holds  to  his  bargain  and  keeps  within  the  law.  The 
workman  will  not  regard  his  master  as  a  machine,  to  which  as  little 
work  as  possible  is  to  be  given,  out  of  which  as  much  wages  as  pos- 
sible is  to  be  squeezed.  The  shop  girl  will  cease  thinking  of  the  store 
as  a  grind  where  she  is  to  do  the  least  she  can  and  yet  draw  her  week- 


462    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


\y  wages.  The  servant  girl  will  not  care  more  about  her  afternoons 
out  than  about  her  mornings  in,  but  will  have  a  sisterly  concern  for 
all  she  engages  to  do.  Your  employer  is  your  brother.  Treat  him 
as  such.  Have  an  interest  in  all  his  interests.  Do  not  have  your  eye 
on  the  clock  all  the  time,  or  your  ear  on  the  whistle,  so  that  when  the 
moment  comes  you  drop  a  job  in  the  middle,  careless  of  what  harm  it 
may  do  so  that  you  are  out  of  your  grind  as  soon  as  possible,  jealous 
lest  you  should  give  him  a  little  more  than  he  has  paid  you  for.  Work 
heartily,  as  unto  the  Lord. 

There  is  a  yet  broader  sense  in  which  masters  and  workmen  are 
alike  bound  to  enter  into  a  common  partnership.  No  man  standeth 
or  falleth  for  himself  alone.  The  interests  of  all  mankind  are  one. 
Every  man  who  works  should  enter  into  a  partnership  with  his  fel- 
lowmen,  whereby  he  gives  them  the  very  best  possible  thing  he  can 
do,  and  receives  from  them  the  joint  result  of  all  their  labor.  There 
is  a  partnership  between  the  ages.  What  benefits  have  we  received 
from  those  who  have  gone  before  us !  What  obligation  to  pass  them, 
increased  by  our  own  toil,  down  to  those  who  come  after  us  !  We  are 
bound  to  co-operate  with  all  our  fellowmcn  for  the  best  good  of  the 
race.  The  brotherhood  of  mankind  should  bring  a  business  partner- 
ship of  mankind,  in  which  the  interest  of  all  is  seen  to  lie  in  the 
faithful,  intelligent  labor  of  every  one ! 

The  great  work  of  the  church  is  to  present  Christ  to  the  soul  and 
to  the  world,  and  to  impress  him  upon  the  community  around.  The 
trouble  has  been  that  we  have  been  satisfied  with  presenting  him  to 
the  world.  The  decisive  work  of  impressing  him  on  the  life  of  so- 
ciety— which  is  applied  Christianity, — we  have  too  often  left  undone, 
as  if  we  had  no  responsibility  save  to  utter  the  message  in  general 
terms,  leaving  it  to  take  care  of  itself.  But  Christianity  is  nothing  if 
not  applied.  Its  great  aim  is  the  kingdom  of  God.  That  means  the 
will  of  God  done  on  earth  as  it  is  done  in  heaven.  That  means  in  all 
departments  of  life  and  on  every  day  in  the  week.  The  definite  ob- 
ject which  church  and  pulpit  have  before  them  is  the  Christianization 
of  society  and  the  nation.  Not  until  this  is  accomplished  is  the  church 
true  to  the  world  of  to-day.  It  must  first  be  true  and  then  timely.  It 
must  be  heard  on  those  subjects  which  are  in  the  minds  of  men,  con- 
cerning which  there  is  doubt  and  difficulty.  It  dare  not  shirk  social 
problems.  The  social  questions  must  be  treated  from  the  Gospel 
standpoint,  and  the  mind  of  Christ  ascertained,  the  life  of  Christ  felt. 
The  kingdoms  of  this  world  are  to  become  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord 
and  his  Christ; and  the  phrase  includes,  says  Dr.  Gladden,  "not  mere- 
ly the  kingdom  of  Siam  and  the  kingdom  of  Madagascar  and  the 
kingdom  of  Dahomey,  but  the  kingdom  of  commerce  and  the  king- 
dom of  industry  and  the  kingdom  of  fashion  and  the  kingdom  of 
learning  and  the  kingdom  of  amusement ;  every  great  department  of 
society  is  to  be  pervaded  by  the  Christian  spirit  and  governed  by 
Christian  law." 

As  to  his  various  sociological  addresses  all  along,  Mr. 
Henderson  writes: — "I  recall,  among  others,  a  review  of 
Bellamy's  Looking    Backward    and  two    illustrated  lec- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


tures,  one  on  "How  the  other  half  lives,"  and  the  other, 
"What  is  being  done  for  the  other  half?"  which  he  gave 
first  in  his  own  church,  and  afterwards  was  called  to  repeat 
at  different  churches.  And  he  frequently  presented  the 
claims  of  the  Charity  Organization  Society. 

"Those  who  were  most  learned  and  most  active  in  good 
work  were  always  his  most  enthusiastic  hearers.  He  was 
sure  of  his  facts;  his  statements  did  not  have  to  be  dis- 
counted; his  deductions  from  the  facts  were  sound  and  his 
arguments  convincing;  he  took  a  broad  view  of  all  these 
questions,  and  was  not  a  crank  in  any  of  them." 

A  letter  from  Dr.  Steiner,  librarian  of  the  Enoch  Pratt 
Free  Library: — 

I  first  met  Mr.  Lawrence  through  Mr.  Stockbridge,  who  intro- 
duced him  to  me  as  a  fellow  Yale  graduate  and  member  of  Alpha 
Delta  Chi.  After  a  time  our  family  connected  ourselves  with  the 
First  Congregational  Church,  and  I  learned  to  know  him  as  pastor. 
I  recall  his  kindliness  of  heart,  purity  and  unselfishness  of  motive, 
and  singleness  of  purpose. 

I  must  not  fail  to  mention  a  very  valuable  course  of  doctrinal  ser- 
inons  delivered  by  him  during  the  Sunday  evenings  of  the  spring  of 
1893.  To  me  they  were  of  great  value  and  furnished  many  helpful 
and  constructive  thoughts.' 

On  Sept.  loth,  Mr.  Lawrence  preached  a  sermon  which  I  have  con- 
sidered one  of  the  ablest  to  which  I  have  ever  listened.  It  was  deliv- 
ered to  a  rather  small  summer  congregation  on  a  hot  morning.  Prof. 
A.  F.  Cravens  of  Columbia  LIniversity  was  with  me  and  agreed  in 
my  high  estimate  of  it.  The  text  was :  "A  new  commandment  I  give 
unto  you  that  ye  love  one  another ;  even  as  I  have  loved  you  that  we 
also  love  one  another."  He  showed  that  the  so-called  Golden  Rule 
was  a  standard  arrived  at  by  non-Christian  men,  which  Confucius 
and  Socrates  have  come  very  close  to  in  their  utterances.  Further,  the 
Golden  Rule  is  far  from  being  a  perfect  rule  of  life.  Our  self-love  is 
very  faulty,  and  love  shown  to  our  fellows  would  also  be  faulty  if 
modelled  on  what  is  our  love  for  ourselves.  Had  Jesus  Christ  no 
newer  message  than  this,  he  would  have  failed  in  giving  us  the  worth- 
iest ideal.  He,  however,  gives  his  disciples  a  new  commandment, — 
that  they  should  love  as  he  had  loved.  The  quantity  and  quality  of 
his  love  for  them  was  perfect.  The  measure  of  his  love  was  un- 
stinted, the  standard  of  it  was  an  ideal  one.  Our  duty  is  not  merely 
to  love  others  as  we  love  ourselves,  but  to  love  them  as  completely  as 
Christ  loved  us,  even  to  death  if  need  be.  Of  course,  I  only  give  you 
a  skeleton  of  his  line  of  thought,  but  it  thrilled  one  through  and 
through. 


464    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Dr.  Steiner  hoped  I  could  find  the  sermon,  but  it  must 
have  been  extempore,  as  I  could  only  find  the  text  and  one 
or  two  heads. 

Among  his  writings,  however,  are  passages  in  full  accord 
with  the  sermon: — 

The  Golden  Rule  was  not  enough.  Jesus  gave  us  the  inmost,  the 
Diamond  Rule  of  Love.  "That  ye  love  one  another  as  I  have  loved 
you."    That  is  the  self-forgetful,  sacrificial,  divine  love. 

Love  is  the  great  Educator  and  Interpreter  and  Orator.  It  is  the 
Creator  and  Inspirer  of  language  and  coinnnmion.  Every  word  and 
look,  everj'  touch  and  embrace  is  but  a  noble  sign  and  symbol. 

In  all  communion,  in  all  separation,  and  in  all  intercourse,  human 
love  is  but  the  flowing  stream  that  has  issued  from  the  fountain.  O 
Divine  Love,  pure  and  clear  and  sweet,  the  water  of  the  river  of  life! 
If  it  be  true  love,  it  will  go  on  through  time  and  eternity,  and  every 
fresh  deed  of  life  will  be  a  fresh  story  of  love. 

Early  in  October  Edward  gave  an  address  before  the  Y. 

M.  C.  A.  of  Johns  Hopkins'  University,  of  which  he  wrote 

me  that  he  spoke  with  great  freedom  and  enjoyment.  From 

others  came  the  most  enthusiastic  accounts. 

One  of  the  Johns  Hopkins'  students  writes: — 

The  address  was  given  in  Levering  Hall,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
University  year,  and  many  new  students  were  present.  I  never  heard 
Mr.  Lawrence  speak  more  forcibly,  nor  with  greater  effect.  He  did 
not  take  a  text,  but  when  he  had  finished  every  one  felt  that  he  had  a 
text.  He  likened  the  work  in  Christian  lines  in  the  city  to  a  well- 
spread  table  of  good  things : — the  regular  church  work,  Sunday 
School,  Missions,  the  Charity  Organization  Society,  and  finally,  the 
Parkin  Street  work.  This  he  described,  with  its  needs  and  its  pos- 
sibilities, with  an  invitation  to  join  in  the  work,  and  make  it  a  veri- 
table University  Settlement. 

I  would  like  to  convey  to  you  something  of  my  appreciation  of  your 
son's  acquaintance  and  friendship,  but  words  seem  meaningless  in  ex- 
pressing what  I  feel. 

Dean  Edward  H.  Griffin  of  the  University  writes  me: — 

It  was  a  twenty  minutes'  unwritten  talk,  direct,  manly  and  eminently 
fair  in  its  recognition  of  the  respective  claims  of  the  university  work 
and  church  duties. 

The  general  thought  of  the  address  was  that  the  church  needs  the 
university  man,  and  that  the  university  man  needs  the  church.  The 
various  hindrances  to  co-operation  between  young  men  pursuing  ad- 
vanced studies  and  the  churches,  as  at  present  organized,  were 
pointed  out  with  much  discrimination,  and  the  point  was  urged  that, 
in  spite  of  the  difficulties  of  mutual  understanding  and  sympathetic 
personal  relation,  it  was  for  the  best  interest  of  both  that  these  two  in- 
stitutions— the   church    and  the  university — should  act  together. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


Specific  application  was  made  to  the  matter  of  attendance  upon 
church  services,  and  the  reasons  why  each  member  of  a  university 
should  have  his  regular  church  home,  and  should  assume  some  stated 
burden  of  church  duty,  were  set  forth  very  cogently.  The  general 
impression  of  the  address  was  of  an  unusual  fairness  in  doing  justice 
to  persons  of  different  degrees  of  culture  and  different  methods  of 
life.  Dr.  Lawrence  was  well  adapted  to  influence  students,  because 
of  his  hearty  sympathy  with  student  life,  and  his  thorough  under- 
standing of  its  conditions.  In  his  attitude  toward  students,  at  one  end 
of  the  scale,  and  the  people  of  the  tenements  at  the  other,  we  see  the 
many-sidedness  of  his  nature,  and  his  wide  range  of  adaptation. 

In  connection  with  Edward's  betrothal  to  a  member  of 
his  own  church,  the  question  naturally  came  up,  whether, 
under  the  circumstances,  for  his  friend's  sake,  a  change  of 
place  might  not  be  desirable.  But  he  left  it  all  to  Provi- 
dence, assured  that  if  it  was  best  the  way  would  be  opened. 
He  had  been  absent  so  much  that  he  had  given  up  the  idea 
of  attending  the  American  Board  meeting  at  Worcester. 
But  he  received  the  proposal  to  exchange  with  Mr.  Camp- 
bell of  Roxbury  the  Sunday  after  the  meeting,  and  as  that 
would  supply  his  pulpit,  he  gladly  made  up  his  mind  to  go. 
He  wrote  this  to  his  mother,  adding: — "I  have  told  Lowry 
about  my  coming  home,  and  hope  you  will  be  glad  to  see 
me.  It  is  a  most  unexpected  pleasure.  I  wish  you  both 
could  be  with  friends  at  Roxbury.'' 

As  soon  as  his  plan  was  known,  arrangements  were  made 
for  us  to  accompany  him  to  Roxbury,  but  he  did  not  know 
this  till  he  reached  Linden  Home  on  his  return  from  the 
Board  meeting. 

Worcester,  Oct.  loth,  1893. 
Well,  dear  Mother,  the  address  of  welcome  was  no  sooner  heard 
than  Dr.  Quint  was  up  with  his  resolution  for  a  committee  of  fifteen, 
to  whom  should  be  referred  special  memorials.  .  .  Dr.  Fisher,  in 
whose  keenness  and  firmness  all  have  the  greatest  confidence,  is  the 
great  leader  of  the  liberals.  Quint  and  others  second  him  well, 
Brother  Creegan  putting  in  a  quiet  word.  All  depends  on  the  center 
moderate  party  which  way  they  will  swing.  The  committee  of  fifteen 
has  been  appointed  and  is  in  session  listening  to  memorials  and  state- 
ments. 

I  take  tea  to-night  at  Professor  Cutler's.  And  I  have  seen  Cousin 
Samuel  and  many  notables.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  sitting  with 
Robert  Hume  during  the  sermon,  and  am  appointed  on  the  commit- 
tee for  India. 


466   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


As  chairman  of  that  committee  it  fell  to  Edward  to  pre- 
pare the  report,  which  he  read  at  one  of  the  meetings.  The 
greater  part  of  it  is  here  given: — 

The  accumulated  labors  of  missionaries  are  producing  their  effect. 
Providential  movements  of  diplomacy,  education  and  reform  are 
changing  the  very  structure  of  Hindu  society.  Summer  heats  are 
dissolving  the  glaciers  of  paganism.  ^Movements  of  whole  castes 
toward  Christianity  are  beginning  in  many  parts  of  India.  The  upper 
castes  recognize  the  power  and  benefit  of  Christianity,  and  attempt 
to  emulate  them  in  a  revived  and  reformed  Hinduism.  The  great 
emergency  is  upon  us. 

But  the  men  who  should  guide  the  streams  from  the  melting 
glaciers  in  irrigating  channels  all  through  the  parched  wastes  of  the 
national  life  are  few,  are  being  worn  out,  crippled,  terrified  by  the 
torrent  of  success  which  will  defeat  them  because  forsooth  they  must 
"Retrench!  Reduce!"  The  direct  note  from  India  we  repeat  is 
one  of  sublime  hopefulness. 

But  the  echo  that  India  returns  to  sounds  from  America  is  one  of 
indignant  grief.  And  the  Indian  echo  is  but  one  note  in  a  minor 
chord  that  wails  in  upon  us  to-day  from  all  our  fields.  When  and 
how  shall  the  Hand  that  plays  on  hearts  and  churches  alike,  modulate 
from  the  minor  into  the  joyful  major  key  of  harmony  and  hope? 

Being  requested  to  speak  on  one  of  the  questions  at  a 

general  meeting,  he  wrote  his  mother  that  he  felt  as  timid 

about  it  as  a  young  girl,  but  supposed  he  must  come  to  it. 

The  following  passage  was  the  close  of  his  remarks: — 

One  word  more.  Some  of  those  who  have  been  dissatisfied  have 
for  years  clung  to  the  Board.  They  have  said,  "No  dollar  that  we  can 
give  shall  be  diverted  from  the  Board — nay,  it  shall  not  be  diverted, 
although  at  the  beginning  of  the  year  we  are  urged  to  give  on  the 
ground  of  the  mission,  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  are  told  that  our 
gifts  show  our  approval  of  the  administration."  Is  there  a  church 
here  represented  which  has  withdrawn  its  contributions  from  the 
Board?  I  do  not  believe  there  is.  And,  accordingly.  I  do  not  believe 
that  there  is  a  church  here  represented  that  will  divert  its  contribu- 
tions from  the  Board,  whatever  be  your  vote  here  to-day. 

How  little  did  anyone  think  this  would  be  his  last  attend- 
ance at  any  meeting  of  the  American  Board!  Yet  the  very 
next  month,  Mrs.  Professor  Cutler  sent  me  the  following 
letter: — 

I  do  not  know  how  to  put  in  words  all  that  we  feel  that  this  brave, 
consecrated  soul  is  removed  from  the  earthly  life.  On  looking  into 
The  Illuminated  Valley,  which  you  kindly  sent  me,  I  am  struck  by  the 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


467 


fact  that  this  new  date  of  grief  follows  so  closely  the  tenth  anniver- 
sary of  that  other  precious  one,  Sept.  4th,  1883.  We  doubt  not  that 
like  his  father  he  could  say, — "If  I  am  spared  to  do  a  little  more 
preaching  and  writing  here,  I  shall  be  happy.  If  God  takes  me  to 
better  work  and  higher  preaching  there,  I  shall  be  happier." 

We  are  grateful  for  the  pleasure  of  his  company  at  tea  during  the 
Board  meeting,  but  regret  that  we  could  see  so  little  of  him.  There 
was  about  him  a  kindliness  and  helpfulness  for  others  and  a  forget- 
fulness  of  self  which  was  very  attractive. 

There  was  also  about  him  a  certain  definiteness  of  consecration  and 
a  naturalness  about  it,  which,  in  a  sort  of  intangible  way,  made  one 
feel  that  a  high  standard  of  consecration  was  right  and  natural  for 
every  Christian. 

Professor  Cutler  added  a  few  words,  warmly  endorsing 
what  his  wife  had  said. 

Prof.  E.  P.  Sanford,  also  of  Clark  University,  wrote 
me: — 

Long  after  coming  to  Worcester  I  looked  back  to  Baltimore  as 
home,  and  to  the  church  there  and  to  Mr.  Lawrence  as  my  church  and 
my  minister.  For  from  him,  through  a  time  of  religious  uncertainty, 
I  got  not  only  good  advice,  but  sympathetic  comprehension  as  well. 
The  central  thoughts  of  two  of  his  sermons  that  I  heard  on  visits  to 
Baltimore  took  strong  hold  at  the  time,  and  will  never  be  forgotten. 
One  was  a  sermon  which  he  spoke  of  as  a  dream  that  was  not  all  a 
dream,  and,  in  the  fashion  of  Bunyan's  House  of  the  Interpreter, 
went  on  to  show  how  one  and  another  of  us  treat  our  ideals.  The 
pathos  and  the  tragedy  of  having  ideals  and  only  living  up  to  them  in 
a  half-hearted  way,  I  shall  not  forget. 

Mr.  Lawrence  had  a  rare  combination  of  strongly-contrasting  qual- 
ities,— liberality  of  thought  and  earnestness,  fineness  of  feeling  and 
practical  energy,  a  temperament  bordering  on  the  poetic,  and  yet  a 
strong  executive  power,  all  sc  blended  with  kindness  and  genial 
humor, — in  a  word,  so  lovable  that  one  can  better  feel  it  than  tell 
about  it. 

His  brief  visit  at  Worcester,  glad  as  I  am  to  remember  it,  has  a 
light  upon  it  that  makes  it  almost  painful.  And  my  mother  and  sister, 
who  saw  so  little  of  him,  do  not  stand  outside  the  shadow  of  your 
sorrow.  How  can  it  be  possible  that  the  man  who  was  so  full  of  life 
is  not  still  going  on  with  his  work?  I  can  recall  the  very  tone  of  his 
voice  as  he  expressed  his  satisfaction  at  the  action  taken  by  the 
American  Board,  his  interest  in  seeing  my  work-room,  the  suggestion 
he  made  as  to  books  for  studying  Church  History  with  my  Sunday 
School  class,  and  a  hundred  and  one  little  things  that  made  up  the 
man  we  knew  and  loved. 


468    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


In  this  connection,  I  will  quote  a  few  lines  from  Rev. 

George  W.  Wood,  for  a  long  time  missionary  in  Turkey, 

and  who  had  known  something  of  Edward  as  a  boy: — 

The  taking  away  of  your  son,  so  honored  for  his  brilliant  powers, 
genuine  consecration,  self-sacrifice  and  great  usefulness,  and  when  he 
was  your  dependence  in  your  advancing  years,  is  a  mystery  indeed. 
We  cannot  comprehend  it.  We  cannot  easily  accept  it.  It  is  enough 
that  the  All-wise,  the  tenderly  pitying,  the  loving  heavenly  Father 
has  done  it.  The  time  of  our  remaining  pilgrimage  is  short.  Only 
the  evening  shadows,  when  the  sunset  glory  will  merge  into  the 
blessed  morning  of  the  eternal  day. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


MAN  PROPOSES. 

God  did  anoint  thee  with  his  odorous  oil 
To  wrestle,  not  to  reign.    So  others  shall 
Take  patience,  labor,  to  their  hearts  and  head 
From  thy  hand  and  thy  heart  and  thy  brave  cheer. 
And  God's  grace  fructify  through  thee  to  all. 

— Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 

Edward  reached  Linden  Home  on  Saturday  morning, 
and  liad  no  reason  to  complain  of  a  cold  reception.  Mat- 
ters were  arranged  as  he  desired,  and  after  a  few  precious 
hours  Lowry  and  I  accompanied  him  to  Roxbury,  dividing 
our  time  among  different  friends,  while  he  passed  the  night 
at  Mr.  Campbell's.  It  seems  that  a  church  in  Manchester, 
N.  H.,  having  heard  much  about  him,  and  learning  that  he 
would  preach  nowhere  as  a  candidate,  had  arranged 
through  some  one  this  exchange,  and  on  October  15th  a 
large  delegation  went  to  Roxbury  to  hear  him.  In  a  Man- 
chester paper  appeared  the  following  account  of  the  ar- 
rangement and  its  results: — 

Some  members  of  the  committee  had  heard  Dr.  Lawrence  very 
highly  recommended  and  they  were  very  anxious  to  hear  him,  but 
Baltimore  seemed  a  long  way  off.  But  the  committee  were  equal  to 
the  emergency.  When  Dr.  Lawrence  came  to  Massachusetts  recently, 
to  a  missionary  convention,  the  committee  arranged  it  so  that  Mr. 
Lawrence  occupied  the  pulpit  of  one  of  the  Roxbury  churches  one 
Sunday,  exchanging  with  the  pastor.  This  had  all  been  arranged  un- 
known to  Dr.  Lawrence,  and  the  audience  were  all  strangers  to 
him,  so  that  he  was  not  aware  that  fourteen  members  of  the  Congre- 
gational church  of  this  city  sat  in  the  audience  listening  to  his  dis- 
course, with  the  idea  of  extending  him  a  call  if  he  was  satisfactory. 

They  were  so  highly  pleased  with  Dr.  Lawrence  that  they  were 
unanimously  in  favor  of  the  church  giving  him  a  call,  and  in  consid- 
eration of  their  favorable  report  Dr.  Lawrence  has  been  asked  to  fill 
this  old  and  conservative  church. 

The  delegation  made  themselves  known  at  the  close  of 

the  evening  service  and  were  so  urgent  that  he  should  go 


470   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


to  Manchester  with  them  in  the  morning  and  look  about, 
meeting  a  few  of  the  people,  that  he  assented,  although  it 
broke  up  some  of  our  Boston  plans.  He  had  previously 
expressed  the  desire  that  Lowry  should  pass  the  winter  at 
Emerson's  College,  making  her  home  with  his  mother,  and 
going  into  Boston  every  day.  He  returned  from  Manches- 
ter in  season  to  be  in  Boston  at  her  entrance  to  the  college. 
After  dining  at  Rev.  Mr.  McElwin's,  we  went  out  to  pass 
the  afternoon  with  dear  friends  in  Cambridge,  but  through 
some  misunderstanding  they  were  absent,  and  we  returned, 
disappointed,  to  the  city,  parting  at  the  Eastern  station,  to 
go  our  separate  ways.  As,  however,  there  was  to  be  a  cele- 
bration of  the  fortieth  aniversary  of  Plymouth  Church  in 
Syracuse,  in  November,  and  he  had  engaged  to  deliver  an 
address  on  TIic  Ideal  Church  on  that  occasion,  he  was  full 
of  anticipations  of  seeing  us  again  on  his  way  there.  Had 
we  dreamed  of  what  was  so  near,  how  could  we  have  let 
him  go? 

Baltimore,  Oct.  19th. 
I  am  just  out  from  the  prayer-meeting.  It  seems  very  pleasant  to 
be  at  iionie  again,  and  the  possibiHty  of  going  away  makes  me  reaHze 
my  attachment  to  the  people,  especially  to  the  young  people  in  all  their 
faithfulness  and  enthusiasm,  and  there  is  an  increasing  number  of 
them.  But  the  Lord  will  make  everything  plain.  I  am  now  installed 
at  Mrs.  Ferguson's,  in  that  little  room  in  the  third  story,  which  must 
be  about  the  size  of  the  Epistles.  But  it  is  very  cosy  for  a  time,  and 
it  seems  like  home  to  be  there.  What  pleasant  visits  we  had,  in  spite 
of  their  being  broken  up  by  my  sudden  disappearance  and  of  our  miss- 
ing Mrs.  Gibbens ! 

Baltimore,  Oct.  23rd. 
Yesterday  morning  I  told  the  people  about  the  American  Board 
meeting,  in  which  they  seemed  greatly  interested.  Last  night  was 
rainy,  but  we  had  fifty-five  persons  out,  and  the  chorus  of  young 
people  adds  much  to  the  interest.  After  my  sermon  I  was  introduced 
to  Professor  Clark  of  Amherst,  whose  books  on  social  questions  I 
had  read  with  great  interest. 

On  October  24th  he  received  the  following  letter  from 

Manchester: — 

Dear  Dr.  Lawrence : — 

Though  an  officer  of  the  church,  this  is  not  an 
official  document ;  that  will  put  in  its  appearance  in  due  season,  but  I 
could  not  wait;  I  wanted  you  to  know  all  that  has  transpired  up  to 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  47 1 


date.  Last  evening  we  had  the  largest,  most  harmonious  and  en- 
thusiastic church  meeting  ever  held  in  our  chapel.  After  a  free  and 
kindly  interchange  of  opinions,  the  unanimous  recommendation  of 
our  committee  was  accepted  and  adopted  by  a  rising  vote ;  we  did  not 
have  to  ask  even  a  small  minority  to  join  with  us  and  make  the  vote 
or  call  unanimous,  for  there  was  not  one  opposing  vote.  We  believe 
that  this  result  is  in  answer  to  our  earnest  prayers  that  God  by  His 
Holy  Spirit  would  lead  or  guide  us  in  the  man  of  our  choice. 

Sincerely  yours, 

E.  T.  Baldwin. 

Writes  one  of  the  lady  delegates  to  a  friend: — 

I  have  been  praying  for  nine  months  that  we  might  be  able  to  unite 
on  some  one  whom  we  could  call  to  be  our  pastor.  .  .  When  the 
question  was  put  and  a  rising  vote  taken,  it  seemed  to  me  there  must 
have  been  two  hundred  who  voted  yes  and  not  one  who  opposed. 
Then,  at  a  suggestion  of  some  one,  "Praise  God  from  whom  all  bless- 
ings flow,"  was  sung  right  heartily,  while  the  meeting  was  closed  by 
singing,  "All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name."  H  Dr.  Lawrence  could 
have  looked  into  the  happy  faces  of  that  audience  and  heard  their  con- 
versation, as  they  gathered  together  in  little  groups,  I  think  he  would 
feel  that  the  indications  of  providence  pointed  pretty  strongly  to  Man- 
chester as  his  next  field  of  labor. 

But  I  must  tell  you  that  another  committee  was  present  to  hear 
Dr.  Lawrence,  and  were  ready  to  call  him,  but  were  told  that  we  had 
the  precedence,  as  the  exchange  was  arranged  on  our  account. 

Another  writes: — "I  have  been  connected  with  the 
church  more  than  twenty-five  years,  and  never  attended 
such  a  gathering  where  everyone  seemed  so  happy  at  the 
prospect  which  seemed  to  open  before  us.'' 

Tidings  of  the  call  from  Manchester  brought  Edward 
those  evidences  of  af¥ection  and  loyalty  from  his  people 
which  are  always  grateful  to  a  pastor.  And  the  following 
appreciative  words  from  Professor  Griffin,  of  Johns  Hop- 
kins University,  gave  him  much  satisfaction: — 

I  have  sympathized  strongly  with  you  in  your  general  views  regard- 
ing theological  and  sociological  questions.  Your  attitude  before  your 
people  and  in  the  community  has  been  that  of  a  public-spirited,  large- 
hearted  man.  whose  conception  of  the  Christian  minister  is  broad 
enough  to  take  in  the  whole  of  life,  and  to  lead  you  to  serve  those  to 
whom  you  minister  in  ways  which  some  of  your  brethren  overlook.  I 
am  sure  that  the  church  will  suffer  a  very  serious  loss  should  you 
thing  it  best  to  go,  and  we  hope  that  the  way  of  duty  may  not  lead 
you  elsewhere. 

The  tearful  entreaties  of  some,  that  he  would  not  leave, 
made  the  thought  of  parting  which  had  all  along  been  hard 


472    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


still  more  painful.  "My  main  reason  for  going,"  he  writes, 
"is  that  it  would  be  easier  for  Lowry  to  begin  work  with 
me  in  a  new  field.  But  for  that,  I  should  hardly  have 
allowed  them  to  extend  a  call." 

At  the  same  time,  he  could  not  escape  the  conviction  that 
there  was  opened  to  him  an  important  field  deserving  the 
most  prayerful  consideration.  The  committee  expressed 
their  readiness  to  give  him  farther  information  as  to  the 
church  either  at  Baltimore  or  Manchester,  as  he  preferred. 
A  clipping  from  a  Manchester  paper  expresses  Edward's 
views  as  to  his  call: — 

WORDS   OF  CHEER. 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  to  the  committee  recently  re- 
ceived from  Dr.  Lawrence  will,  at  this  time,  be  of  special  interest  to 
the  readers  of  Church  Progress.  Having  referred  with  much  feeling 
to  the  spirit  of  confidence  and  enthusiasm  with  which  the  call  had 
been  made,  and  to  his  thankfulness  for  the  trust  that  had  been  shown, 
causing  him  at  times  to  feel  distrustful  of  his  ability  to  realize  such 
large  hopes  as  seem  to  have  been  fixed  on  his  coming,  he  adds,  "I 
feel  that  my  final  decision  can  only  be  made  after  I  have  looked  your 
people  in  the  face,  ministered  to  them,  tested  the  acoustic  properties 
of  the  church  and  learned  whether  the  people  make  the  same  response 
to  my  presence  as  they  have  made  to  your  report." 

The  committee  feel  that  they  can  promise  our  people  the  pleasure 
of  listening  to  Dr.  Lawrence  some  Sunday  in  November. 

The    sketch  by    the  parish  visitor,  sent  to  Edward's 

mother  several  months  after  he  had  passed  from  earth,  is 

given  here  as  a  summary  of  the  whole  afifair: — 

The  First  Congregational  Church  in  Manchester,  N.  H.,  had  been 
for  eight  or  nine  months  without  a  pastor,  when  the  attention  of  its 
committee,  consisting  of  thirty  members,  chosen  from  church  and  so- 
ciety, was  directed  to  the  work  and  worth  of  Edward  A.  Lawrence, 
D.  D.,  of  Baltimore.  The  testimony  of  mutual  friends  and  the  pub- 
lished accounts  of  his  success  as  a  pastor  and  his  beneficent  social  en- 
terprises, led  many  to  believe  that  he  was  the  one  for  whom  they  were 
waiting,  and  a  large  delegation  took  advantage  of  an  exchange  which 
had  been  efYected  to  hear  him  preach  in  Roxbury,  Mass.,  Oct.  15, 
1893.  The  favorable  impression  already  received  was  heightened  by 
the  two  sermons  heard  that  day.  Dr.  Lawrence  was  approached  by 
members  of  the  committee  that  night,  and  the  probability  of  his  re- 
ceiving a  call  from  the  Manchester  church  was  there  announced.  An 
invitation  to  return  with  the  party  and  see  the  church  and  city  was 
accepted  by  him,  and,  on  the  following  evening  a  little  company  of 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  473 


interested  people  met  him  at  an  informal  reception  at  tlie  home  of  one 
of  the  committee. 

Memories  of  Dr.  Lawrence,  of  his  genial  courtesy,  and  the  happy 
frieiidHness  of  his  manner,  of  his  enthusiastic  and  wise  discussion  of 
problems  of  the  church  and  kingdom,  will  be  treasured  by  all  who 
were  favored  by  intercourse  with  him  on  those  two  days. 

At  largely  attended  meetings  of  both  church  and  society,  the  com- 
mittee of  thirty  presented  the  name  of  Dr.  Lawrence  as  their  choice 
of  a  pastor,  and  their  recommendation  was  enthusiastically  and 
unanimously  adopted. 

The  following  is  the  formal  call  as  sent  to  Dr.  Lawrence,  Oct.  26, 
1893  :- 

Manchester,  N.  H.,  Oct.  26,  1893. 
Rev.  Edward  A.  Lawrence,  D.  D., 
Dear  Sir: — 

In  presenting  to  you  the  action  of  the  First  Congregational 
Church  and  Society  of  this  city  in  the  matter  of  extending  to  you  a 
call  to  become  their  pastor,  we,  the  committee  appointed,  desire  to 
make  some  statements  which  we  trust  will  influence  you  to  accept  it. 

First,  the  great  unanimity  with  which  the  call  is  given.  After  hear- 
ing all  the  evidence  that  the  committee  had  gathered  in  relation  to 
your  adaptability  to  our  church,  together  with  the  testimony  of  the 
large  number  who  heard  you  preach  at  Roxbury  on  the  isth  of  this 
month,  our  people  have  accepted  this  accumulation  of  evidence  in 
your  favor  as  entirely  satisfactory,  and  so  voted  to  extend  to  you  this 
call  with  enthusiastic  unanimity,  the  meeting  of  the  church  being  the 
largest  held  for  years  for  the  transaction  of  business. 

Second,  the  situation  of  our  church  in  the  largest  city  of  the  state 
presents  a  field  of  usefulness  for  a  Christian  minister  rarely  found, 
giving  such  an  one  ample  scope  for  his  best  efforts,  and  affording  him 
a  commanding  position,  if  he  puts  himself  in  sympathy  with  the 
churches  of  the  state.  These  churches  are  constantly  sending  their 
young  men  here,  and  they  naturally  look  to  the  pastor  of  the  church 
to  exercise  Christian  care  over  them. 

Third,  the  large  number  of  young  people  in  our  congregation  is  of 
itself  stimulating  and  gives  grounds  for  large  expectations  to  a  min- 
ister. 

These  pastorless  months  of  patient  waiting  and  prayer  have  seemed 
to  unify  our  hearts  and  desires  for  one  to  lead  us  to  more  efficient 
Christian  service.  We  confidently  trust  that  the  same  guiding  hand 
which  has  led  us  to  this  conclusion  will  lead  you  to  a  decision  in  har- 
mony with  our  action  and  desire.  Therefore,  we  present  to  you  the 
action  of  the  church  and  society,  and  cordially  invite  you  to  accept 
this  united  call,  on  the  terms  indicated  therein,  to  become  our  pastor. 

Should  you  do  so,  we  are  sure  our  people  will  respond  heartily  to 
your  leadership  in  all  efforts  to  build  up  the  kingdom  of  Christ. 

Sincerely  yours. 

The  Committee. 

Dr.  Lawrence  had  acknowledged  the  receipt  of  the  above  call  and 
had  promised  to  visit  the  city  Nov.  17th  to  20th  inclusive,  as  it  was 
his  wish  that  the  people  should  have  an  opportunity  of  hearing  him 
before  the  business  arrangements  were  consummated.    Before  that 


474   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


time  arrived,  however,  he  was  stricken  with  the  disease  which  ter- 
minated his  earthly  career,  dying  on  the  very  day  on  which  he  was 
expected  in  Manchester. 

He  had  so  lived  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of  that  people  during  the 
month  of  negotiation,  that  there  was  felt,  not  only  a  keen  disappoint- 
ment as  a  church,  but  also  a  deep  sense  of  personal  bereavement  by- 
many  who  had  never  even  seen  him. 

His  portrait  still  hangs  among  those  of  the  pastors  of  the  church, 
and  he  himself  dwells  in  the  affections  of  the  people. 

It  may  not  be  amiss  to  introdtice  here  a  letter  from  Rev. 

Dr.  T.  Eaton  Clapp,  which  tells  its  own  story: — 

Manchester,  N.  H.,  February  2nd,  1899. 
My  Dear  Mrs.  Lawrence : — 

Will  a  note  supplemented  to  Miss 
Dana'.^  narrative  of  your  dear  son's  call  to  the  First  Congregational 
Church  at  Manchester,  N.  H.,  with  its  pathetic  and  tragic  termina- 
tion, be  out  of  place  in  his  biography?  Associated  as  fellow  pastors 
in  Syracuse,  he  quickly  won  my  admiration  for  his  manliness,  scholar- 
ship, pulpit  ability,,  and  evangelical  zeal.  One  of  the  pleasing  incid- 
ents of  my  departure  for  Portland,  Oregon,  was  the  discovery  that 
I  owed  my  call  in  part  to  his  kindness. 

About  the  time  of  his  call  to  Manchester,  circumstances  personal 
led  us  to  seek  an  Eastern  residence.  Whereupon  I  made  inquiry  of 
him  concerning  vacant  churches  to  which  I  might  secure  an  introduc- 
tion. This  inquiry  was  followed  in  a  few  weeks  by  an  absolutely  un- 
expected call  to  Manchester  as  the  successor  of  my  lamented  friend, 
whose  departure  was  such  an  extended  and  profound  shock.  As  al- 
ready said,  my  call  to  Manchester  was  an  utter  surprise,  and  it  was 
months  later  before  the  cause  came  to  my  knowledge.  Then  it  was 
known  to  be  a  sweet  after-fruit  of  our  friendship.  My  letter  of  in- 
quiry, reaching  Baltimore  after  his  death,  was  forwarded  to  you,  my 
dear  Mrs.  Lawrence;  your  tender  thoughtfulness  guided  the  church 
toward  me  and  led  to  invitation  and  settlement.  Your  large  heart 
adopted  all  the  friends  of  your  sainted  son  ;  and  at  a  time  when  you 
had  a  special  right  to  forget  them,  your  generous  purpose  was  at 
work  to  put  one  of  these  friends  at  the  task  which  death  compelled 
your  dear  son  to  lay  down.  Thus  God  has  yoked  our  lives  together 
and  wrapped  his  consecrated  mantle  around  me. 

So  my  settlement  at  Manchester  has  always  seemed  specially  sacred 
— like  the  water  of  Bethlehem's  fountain  to  the  thirsty  shepherd  king. 
It  was  the  outcome  of  a  hallowed  friendship,  seconded  by  a 
rare  mother-love.  It  is  impossible  to  pay  this  little  tribute  with- 
out intruding  myself  into  the  story,  where  it  has  no  right  to  be.  My 
simply  plea  is  that  only  in  such  way  could  the  offering  be  made. 
Ever  gratefully  yours. 

T.  Eaton  Clapp. 

A  few  additional  words  from  Dr.  Clapp  are  given,  which 
were  written  just  after  his  settlement  over  the  Manchester 
church : — 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  475 


"It  will  please  you  to  know  of  the  continued  and  most 
tender  reference  made  daily  to  your  son.  The  thought  of 
the  faithfulness  and  efficiency  with  which  his  work  here 
would  have  been  prosecuted  is  an  inspiration  to  me.  He 
may  be  following  the  life  of  the  church,  which  is  very  un- 
usual in  its  welcome  to  us.  There  is  also  a  fine  docility 
which  promises  easy  leadership.'' 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 


LAST  DAYS. 

Strange,  how  we  think  of  Death, 

The  angel  beloved  of  God, 
With  his  face  like  an  asphodel  flower, 

And  his  feet  with  nepenthe  shod ! 

Strange  how  we  turn  and  flee, 

When  he  comes  by  the  sunset  way 
Out  of  the  Valley  of  Rest, 

Down  by  the  baths  of  day ! 

Why  should  we  fear  him  so? 

What  doth  the  white  one  bear? 
Heartsease  of  Paradise, 

Lilies  of  upper  air. 

Comes  he  so  soft,  so  kind, 

Down  from  the  waiting  sky, — 
Soft  as  a  mother,  stirred 

By  a  child's  fancied  cry. 

Why  should  we  call  him  Death, — 

Death  as  we  deem  it — pray? 
Doth  he  not  free  the  soul, 

Cramped  by  its  gyves  of  clay? 

Which  is  the  truer  life — 

Flesh,  to  corruption  born. 
Or  the  untrammeled  soul 

Winged  with  eternal  morn? 

— ^James  Buckham. 


Baltimore,  Oct.  27th,  1893. 

Dear  Mother: — 

My  present  plan  is  to  leave  here  Monday,  Nov.  13th,  just 
after  midnight,  reaching  Syracuse  in  time  to  attend  the  closing  exer- 
cises of  the  anniversary  and  to  deliver  my  address.  I  spend  Tuesday 
there,  and  on  Wednesday  leave  for  Marblehead.  Then,  on  Friday 
morning  I  expect  to  go  to  Manchester,  attending  the  evening  meeting, 
preaching  Sunday,  and  spending  Monday  there,  giving  my  answer  be- 
fore I  leave  and  returning  here  at  once.  In  case  I  accept  the  call,  I 
should  wish  to  begin  there  early  in  December,  when  I  shall  hope  to 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


Ml 


have  you  and  Lowry  come  up  and  spend  the  Christmas  vacation  with 
me. 

To  my  inquiry  of  Edward,  whether,  having  Lowry  with 
me,  I  had  better  accept  an  invitation  from  the  Abbott 
Academy  Club  to  dine  with  them  in  Boston,  at  the  open- 
ing meeting  of  the  year,  he  had  repHed,  "Of  course  you  will 
go  to  that  dinner,  and  will  take  Lowry  as  your  guest,  and  of 
course  she  will  go  with  you." 

According  to  the  arrangement,  on  Saturday,  November 
4th,  Lowry  and  I  went  to  Boston  to  the  Parker  House, 
where  we  met  the  Abbott  Academy  Club,  and  had  dinner 
and  speeches.  Lowry  was  persuaded  to  give  recitations 
from  Browning,  and  as  an  encore,  Did  You  Ever?  As  had 
been  planned,  we  spent  Sunday  and  Monday  with  different 
friends,  and  were  to  return  home  the  next  day. 

On  Tuesday,  a  telegram  summoned  us  to  Edward's 
dying  bed.  As  we  were  utterly  unprepared,  the  bolt  fell  as 
out  of  a  clear  sky.  But  there  was  not  a  minute  to  lose,  and 
borrowing  money  from  a  friend  and  with  only  our  hand- 
bags, we  took  the  earliest  train,  reaching  Lowry's  home  be- 
tween two  and  three  o'clock  Wednesday  morning,  where 
we  found  Anita  and  her  husband,  who  had  arrived  Tuesday 
evening.  To  describe  that  journey  all  attempts  would  be 
vain. 

To  go  back  a  few  days, — from  the  account  given  me  by 
Mrs.  Ferguson,  in  whose  house,  having  just  left  Parkin 
Street,  Edward  now  had  a  room,  it  seems  that  on  Thursday 
evening,  November  2nd,  he  came  to  her,  asking  for  a  cup 
of  hot  water,  as  he  did  not  feel  well.  He  had  been  in  to  see  a 
doctor  who  lived  near  by,  and  who  gave  him  some  powders, 
but  as  he  was  no  better  the  next  day,  she  considerately  ar- 
ranged for  him  to  take  a  larger  room  on  the  second  story. 

Miss  Tyson,  at  whose  house  he  had  boarded  almost  the 
whole  time  of  his  residence  in  Baltimore,  speaks  of  missing 
him  at  her  table,  but  as  he  was  often  absent,  did  not  think  of 


478   REMLXISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


this  as  strange.  ''But  when  he  did  not  appear  on  Sunday 
we  felt  anxious,  and  my  sister  went  to  the  house  to  make 
inquiries,  and  found  how  ill  he  was.  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
much  he  was  missed  at  our  table.  He  was  a  favorite  with 
the  whole  household,  smoothing  over  all  difficulties. 
Words  cannot  express  the  sympathy  we  feel  for  you." 

On  Saturday  he  wrote  a  postal  card  to  Mrs.  Xunn: — "I 
am  not  ver\-  well  to-day — indigestion  or  something.  Shall 
not  try  to  come  over  to-night,  but  hope  to  be  all  right  to- 
morrow." 

Deacon  Cressy  writes: — "On  Wednesday  evening,  No- 
vember 1st,  the  preparatory'  lecture  was  on  the  17th  chapter 
of  John.  Mr.  La^\Tence's  earnestness  and  the  brightness  of 
his  countenance  in  presenting  the  truths  of  that  chapter  were 
so  manifest,  that  it  was  spoken  of  by  many  in  the  congrega- 
tion. Late  on  the  following  Saturday  afternoon  he  sent  for 
me.  On  my  entering  the  room  he  said,  with  a  smile,  'You 
did  not  expect  to  find  me  in  bed,  but  I  shall  be  all  right  in 
two  or  three  days.  I  fear,  however,  that  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  preach  to-morrow,  although  I  may  be  present  in  the 
morning.'  As  there  were  twelve  to  unite  with  the  church, 
he  was  anxious  to  be  there.'' 

At  his  request.  Deacon  Cressy  made  inquiries  among  the 
ministers,  and  finally  returned  with  the  report  that  he  had 
secured  the  ser\-ices  of  Dr.  Joseph  Smith  as  a  supply  for 
his  pulpit  Sunday  morning,  and  that  of  another  minister 
for  the  evening. 

Mrs.  Ferguson  speaks  of  his  passing  a  restless  night,  and 
of  his  sufferings  on  Sunday  morning  as  being  so  great 
that  the  doctor  was  summoned.  He  prescribed  a  hot  bath 
and  hot  applications,  which,  however,  brought  no  relief. 
But  she  took  comfort  from  his  assurance  that  the  case  was 
not  serious. 

Mrs.  Nunn  writes  that  she  first  knew  of  his  sickness  by 
the  postal  card  which  has  been  given.  Learning  from  Dea- 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


479 


con  Cressy  that  he  would  Hke  to  see  her,  she  called  on  Sun- 
day. "Although  in  bed,  he  thought  he  should  be  up  the  next 
day,  and  said  that  Mrs.  Ferguson  was  doing  everything  for 
him  that  was  needed.  He  requested  me  to  read  the  nth 
chapter  of  John,  which  Lowry  and  he  were  to  read  on  that 
Sunday.  I  asked  him  if  I  should  write  to  his  mother  or 
Lowry  and  he  said  no,  he  should  be  better  soon,  and  would 
write  himself;  that  he  was  glad  they  were  having  a  good 
time  in  Boston.'' 

It  was  concluded  that  Edward  Nunn  should  stay  with 
him  during  the  night,  about  which  he  writes: — 

Mr.  Lawrence  said  this  was  the  first  Sunday  in  all  his  ministry  that 
he  had  been  unable  to  preach.  As  he  took  medicine  every  hour,  we 
were  awake  nearly  all  night  and  had  a  good  deal  of  talk.  It  caused 
him  acute  pain  to  move,  but  he  expressed  his  belief  that  his  troubles 
all  came  from  a  severe  attack  of  indigestion.  He  spoke  of  the  love 
he  bore  to  every  member  of  the  congregation,  and  of  the  struggle  it 
would  cost  him  to  leave,  with  his  reasons  for  so  doing,  and  of  the 
tenement-work  and  the  good  he  hoped  would  be  accomplished  by  it. 
The  idea,  however,  of  any  thing  but  an  early  recovery  never  occurred 
to  either  of  us.  In  his  sickness,  as  in  his  life,  he  was  the  Christian 
gentleman  in  his  unselfish  disregard  of  his  own  suffering  and  his 
thought  for  others. 

From  a  letter  of  Mrs.  Smith,  one  of  my  son's  faithful 
friends,  to  Miss  Noyes,  a  former  teacher  in  the  Woman's 
College  and  an  attendant  at  Edward's  church,  a  few  ex- 
tracts are  made: — 

The  night  of  the  Preparatory  lecture,  Nov.  ist,  was  the  last  time 
Mr.  Lawrence  was  with  us,  and  it  seemed  almost  as  if  he  must  have 
had  premonitions  that  it  would  be  his  last  talk  to  us.  He  spoke  so 
beautifully  that  many  were  greatly  impressed.  He  took  the  whole 
chapter  of  John  17th,  and  I  don't  think  you  ever  heard  him  or  any 
other  talk  as  he  did.  At  this  time  he  was  considering  the  call  to  Man- 
chester, though  he  would  not  decide  till  he  had  been  there  to  preach, 
which  he  was  shortly  expecting  to  do.  .  .  When,  on  Sunday  morn- 
ing, I  saw  Dr  Smith  of  the  Central  Presbyterian  Church  in  the  pulpit, 
a  chill  crept  over  me.  When  my  husband  came  to  his  seat,  he  said 
that  Mr.  Lawrence  had  acute  stomach  trouble.  He  had  come  up  from 
Parkin  Street  a  short  time  before. 

A  warm  friend  of  Edward's,  a  Johns  Hopkins'  student, 
writes  that  many  were  so  anxious  that  on  Sunday  he  ven- 
tured to  suggest  to  Edward's  doctor  that  a  surgeon  from 


480   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Johns  Hopkins'  Hospital  should  be  called  in  for  a  consul- 
tation, to  which  he  assented.  Meeting  the  doctor  on  Mon- 
day on  the  street,  he  reported  that  he  had  called  on  Dr. 
Halsted,  but  as  he  was  not  up,  he  had  arranged  that  Mr. 
Lawrence  should  send  him  a  note  requesting  him  to  ap- 
point a  time  for  the  consultation. 

On  the  same  day  Edward  sent  Mrs.  Nunn,  in  pencilling 
and  in  a  very  unsteady  hand,  the  last  words  he  ever 
wrote : — 

Monday.  The  doctor  this  morning  suggests  the  possibility  of  the 
Hopkins  hospital  for  me,  and  Dr.  Halsted  is  to  meet  him  here  at 
three  this  afternoon  and  decide.    I  thought  it  right  to  let  you  know. 

Yours  sincerely, 

Edward  A.  Lawrence. 

After  the  examination  Dr.  Halsted  pronounced  his  disease 
appendicitis,  and  said  he  must  be  taken  to  the  hospital 
at  once.  When  Mrs.  Nunn  asked  him  if  she  should  write 
his  mother,  "Not  till  after  the  operation.''  She  went  with 
him  in  the  ambulance,  holding  his  head.  While  on  the  way 
he  said  to  her,  "If  God  wants  me  for  a  higher  service,  I  am 
ready,  and  if  for  work  here  on  earth,  I  am  ready." 

It  was  not  till  after  the  operation,  and  the  surgeon's  reply 
to  his  inquiries,  that  he  realized  his  condition  and  con- 
sented that  telegrams  should  be  sent  us.  Shortly  after  our 
arrival,  word  came  that  he  was  sinking  rapidly.  We  has- 
tened to  the  hospital,  and  being  taken  into  his  room,  he 
said  with  a  glow  of  welcome  in  his  face,  though  in  a  feeble 
voice,  "What  happiness  to  see  you  all  here!" 

We  were  allowed  to  remain  only  five  minutes,  but  he 
spoke  a  separate  word  to  each.  Thursday  morning  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Hall  from  Plattsburg  arrived  and  received  a 
warm  greeting. 

He  was  kept  most  of  the  time  under  the  influence  of 
morphine,  but  was  conscious  at  intervals  until  the  end 
came.  He  had  an  excellent  nurse,  the  head-nurse  of  the 
ward,  who  became  greatly  attached  to  him. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  48 1 


After  he  went  to  the  hospital,  the  papers  made  daily  re- 
ports of  his  case  and  letters  of  inquiry  and  sympathy  were 
constantly  received. 

Among  these  was  one  addressed  to  Edward  from  his 
friend,  Father  Nilan,  of  St.  Peter's  Church,  Poughkeepsie, 
dated  November  9th.  "It  grieves  me  to  read  in  the  morn- 
ing's papers  that  you  are  ill.  My  sympathy  goes  to  your  es- 
teemed mother,  whose  maternal  affection  consoles  you  in 
your  illness.  My  prayers  will  be  for  your  speedy  recovery, 
and  all  blessings  from  the  source  of  every  grace.'' 

A  letter  came  to  his  mother  from  a  member  of  his  Cham- 
plain  Church: — 

"We  read  in  yesterday's  Tribune  that  our  dear  Mr.  Law- 
rence was  critically  ill.  We  are  exceedingly  anxious  to 
know  more  of  his  condition.  God  grant  that  he  may  be  re- 
stored! With  deepest  sympathy,  E.  C.  Stetson,  Glovers- 
ville,  November  loth.''  Alas!  before  the  arrival  of  this  let- 
ter, he  had  passed  over  the  river. 

Rev.  Mr.  Rogers,  of  the  Westminster  Presbyterian 
Church,  wrote  me,  November  8th: — "You  will  have  no 
lack  of  expressions  of  sympathy,  for  in  addition  to  his  own 
people,  your  son  had  a  large  circle  of  friends.  But  I  feel 
prompted  to  express  the  thought  of  my  heart.  He  is  so 
ingenuous,  so  genial,  so  warm-hearted,  that  all  who  know 
him  have  learned  to  esteem  him  very  highly.  If  consistent 
with  the  Lord's  will,  may  he  speedily  be  restored  to 
health!" 

Telegrams  of  inquiry  were  sent  constantly  from  Man- 
chester, where  he  had  expected  to  go  about  this  time,  and 
one  of  the  church  members  sent  the  following  postal  card 
to  a  deeply  interested  friend  in  another  city: — "Manchester, 
Friday,  A.  M.  A  telegram  received  here  last  evening  from 
the  physician  at  Johns  Hopkins'  Hospital,  said  that  the 
case  was  a  hopeless  one.  Another  sent  at  midnight  said 
that  Dr.  Lawrence  was  still  living.    I  cannot  give  up  all 


482    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


hope  while  he  Hves.    God  may  yet  hear  our  prayers.  His 

work  for  us  has  been  a  grand  one,  even  if  he  never  looks 

into  the  faces  of  this  people,  and  many  of  us  will  feel  his 

loss  almost  as  though  he  were  already  our  pastor.'' 

A  most  comforting  letter  came  from  Rev.  Dr.  Spalding, 

of  the  First  Presbyterian  Church  in  Syracuse: — 

With  what  prayers  and  anxious,  tender  heart  I,  though  away,  have 
been  watching  at  the  bed  of  your  dear,  dear  boy.  The  note  from  your 
daughter,  brought  by  little  Wallace  this  morning,  seems  to  tell  with 
certainty  that  the  struggle  between  hope  and  fear  is  over,  and  perhaps 
already  the  noble  servant  of  Christ  has  gone  to  the  Master  whom  he 
so  ardently  loved.  My  heart  bleeds  for  you.  Such  an  ending  to  such 
fond,  brightest  hopes,  such  a  rending  of  such  tenderest,  most  sacred 
afifections !  But  this  is  the  earthly  side.  Beyond  it  is  such  sunshine, 
such  glory,  such  eternal  security  and  triumph.  I  loved  him  with  a 
great  love,  and  who  that  reallyknew  him  must  not  so  have  loved  him? 
I  never  knew  one  nobler  in  character,  purer  in  life,  sweeter  in  love, 
more  simple  and  transparent  in  being.  The  perpetual  smile  in  his  eyes 
— that  no  unkindness  of  others  could  hide,  no  sadness  of  earth  could 
dispel,  no  shame  nor  sin  of  all  the  world  could  put  into  absolute 
eclipse;  that  beautiful,  hopeful,  forgiving,  patient,  brave  smile  was  to 
me  the  index  of  his  own  great,  loving.  Christlike  character.  Oh,  dear 
mother,  dear  sister,  you  too,  whom  I  have  not  seen,  but  who  are 
known  to  me  by  a  fellowship  of  suffering,  in  all  your  tears,  may  that 
smile  of  his  reflect  itself,  and  may  his  deathless  hope  and  love  and 
perfect  faith  enter  your  own  souls.  If  the  dear  son  is  this  side  the 
gates,  give  him  my  love,  my  whole  heart's  "good-by"  for  the  "little 
while"  ere  we  shall  all  meet  in  the  rapture  of  an  endless  welcome. 
God  greatly  bless  you  all,  and  give  you  comforts  larger  than  your  bit- 
terest sorrow,  and  sweeter  even  than  vour  fondest  love. 

Yours  with  utmost  sympathy, 

George  B.  Spalding. 

After  learning  that  all  was  over,  and  that  Edward's 
mother  was  suffering  keenly  from  the  feeling  that,  had  his 
case  been  understood,  this  agony  of  parting  might  have 
been  spared.  Dr.  Spalding  wrote  again : — 

Dear  Edward's  ministry  here  on  earth  has  not  been  interrupted.  It 
has,  by  the  liberation  of  death,  been  made  infinitely  more  effective 
and  joyful.  I  believe  that  his  freed  spirit  in  ways  of  love  and  min- 
istering care  even  for  you,  is  immensely  more  direct  and  fruitful  than 
when  he  was  here  on  earth.  "Death  is  gain,"  gain  in  powers  of 
service  and  expressions  and  influences  of  love.  It  was  the  soul  of 
your  son  that  once  filled  his  body,  and  made  that  body  so  dear  to  you. 
That  soul  has  not  ceased  its  powers  of  reaching  you  now  that  it  has 
left  a  limiting  body  of  mere  flesh.  He  loves  you  still,  sees  you,  helps 
you,  dear  mother,  more  than  at  his  very  best  while  here.  May  God 
comfort  your  heart ! 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


Edward  had  one  of  the  best  of  nurses,  a  Miss  Irving,  and 
at  our  request,  she  kindly  sent  me  the  following  letter: — 

Nov.  6th,  1893. 

Monday.  Beyond  asking  for  those  things  necessary  for  his  com- 
fort, Dr.  Lawrence  said  very  little  except  to  inquire  if  there  was  any 
hope  of  his  recovery,  "for  I  have  much  to  live  for,"  he  added.  Being 
kept  under  the  influence  of  morphine  he  was  very  drowsy  and  quiet. 

Tuesday.  About  five  A.  M.  "Please  bathe  me  all  over  with  cold 
water.  I  have  always  taken  a  cold  bath  in  the  morning,  and  I  miss  it 
very  much."  During  the  bath  he  told  me  that  he  first  felt  unwell  on 
Thursday,  but  that  the  symptoms  were  not  very  marked  till  Saturday. 
"I  hope  I  have  not  put  off  coming  here  too  long." 

About  ten,  he  said  he  felt  quite  comfortable  and  begged  me  to  go  to 
bed  and  sleep  well.  When  I  returned  at  four  in  the  afternoon,  I 
found  he  had  vomited  constantly  since  twelve  at  noon.  When  I  was 
going  to  dinner  at  half  past  six,  he  said,  "Do  not  stay  long.  When 
I  am  well  I  love  solitude,  but  now  I  like  to  have  you  near  me  all  the 
time." 

About  nine  he  asked,  "Have  you  your  Bible?  I  did  not  bring  mine, 
but  would  like  to  have  you  read  to  me  if  you  will."  The  Bible  being 
brought,  he  named  the  14th  chapter  of  John.  At  the  end  of  the  26th 
verse,  he  motioned  me  to  stop.  "Can  you  pray  with  me?"  I  re- 
peated the  Lord's  prayer,  and  then  he  slept  at  intervals  till  three 
o'clock.  Wednesday  morning,  waking  suddenly,  he  looked  directly 
into  my  face, — "I  shall  never  get  well;  I  am  going  to  die."  I  told 
him  that  was  not  for  a  nurse  to  decide.  But  receiving  no  contradic- 
tion, he  added.  "If  it  is  God's  will,  I  am  ready  to  go.  In  spite  of  my 
shortcomings  and  my  many  sins,  there  is  a  place  for  me."  When  I 
ventured  to  express  a  doubt  as  to  his  ever  having  been  very  sinful, — 
"Hush!  Don't;  I  have  tried,  but  my  sins  will  all  be  forgiven."  He 
said  this  with  a  sweet  smile,  and  then  dozed  for  half  an  hour.  Wak- 
ing gently  he  said,  "I  should  like  to  see  my  mother  and  sister  and 
Lowry,  if  it  were  possible."  When  he  heard  that  they  had  been  sent 
for,  he  seemed  to  be  thinking  over  what  he  should  say  to  them. 
About  four  they  all  came  and  had  a  brief  interview  with  him.  When, 
later,  he  was  bathed  and  arranged  for  the  day,  he  gave  me  in  charge 
some  things  to  be  repeated  to  his  mother  concerning  business  matters 
and  the  studies  he  would  like  to  have  Miss  Nunn  pursue,  adding,  "Do 
not  forget  to  tell  her." 

That  evening  he  wanted  me  to  read  the  103rd  Psalm.  An  '  then  I 
repeated  the  Lord's  prayer,  the  prayer  of  Chrysostom  and  the  Bene- 
diction. Lowry  came  to  bid  him  good  night,  bringing  him  some 
flowers.  When  she  had  gone,  he  said,  "Explain  to  her  and  to  them 
lall  that  I  am  dying,  and  don't  let  them  think  that  I  can  recover.  There 
is  much  work  I  wanted  to  do,  liut  it  is  the  will  of  God  that  I  should 
go.  and  to  die  is  the  perfection  of  life." 

He  slept  at  intervals  during  that  night  and  talked  very  little.  Once 
he  awoke  with  a  radiant  smile  and  arms  outstretched,  exclaiming, 
"Beautiful,  beautiful,  to  be  with  Christ,  with  Christ  forever!"  He 
spoke  only  when  questioned.  After  midnight  he  failed  rapidly  till 
about  six  in  the  morning,  when  he  suddenly  rallied,  saying,  "I  am 


484   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


not  going  to  die  yet;  I  have  so  much  to  live  for."  During  the  day 
he  recognized  his  friends  when  they  were  allowed  to  come  in  for  five 
minutes.  But  he  was  unable  to  rouse  himself  or  to  fix  his  attention 
without  great  effort.  He  inquired  for  his  mother  and  sister  and 
Lowr)',  sending  his  love  and  "God  bless  them  all !" 

In  the  evening,  on  being  arranged  for  the  night,  he  repeated  the 
Lord's  prayer,  petition  after  petition,  down  to  "Forgive  us  our 
trespasses,"  when  I  finished  it  alone.  All  that  night  he  was  conscious 
when  roused ;  but  his  mind  seemed  occupied  with  the  great  struggle 
between  body  and  soul.  His  sister  and  Lowry  were  with  him,  and  he 
often  called  their  names,  turning  towards  them  as  he  spoke.  He 
seemed  to  recognize  his  mother's  absence,  and  the  last  word  he  ut- 
tered was  "Mother."    At  half  past  nine  his  soul  returned  home. 

A  very  dear  friend  wrote  me: — "It  was  precious  to  see 
him  meet  your  eyes  as  you  stood  beside  his  bed  that  day 
when  we  first  saw  him,  and  to  hear  him  say,  'Mother,  we  do 
not  need  to  talk  now,  for  we  were  all  to  each  other  during 
life.'  I  am  glad  that  the  last  word  he  said  was  Mother.  No 
son  could  have  loved  a  mother  more  devotedly  and  loyally 
and  more  tenderly  than  he." 

Writes  his  Johns  Hopkins'  friend,  of  whom  mention  has 
been  made: — 

After  the  operation  I  did  not  see  him  till  Tuesday  afternoon.  On 
seeing  me,  he  smiled  and  gave  me  his  hand.  He  did  not  speak  often, 
but  would  open  his  eyes  and  smile  in  the  old  way.  I  think  he  wanted 
to  talk,  but  felt  it  was  best  to  keep  perfectly  quiet.  I  was  with  him 
much  of  the  time  till  midnight.  At  one  time,  expressing  my  sym- 
pathy with  the  pain  he  endured,  he  replied, — "I  am  no  coward ;  I  don't 
fear  pain,  not  physical  pain."  Some  time  during  the  night  he  said, — 
"I  don't  want  to  die  yet."  His  whole  appearance  indicated  that  he 
was  trying  to  repress  his  feelings  in  view  of  what  was  so  wholly  un- 
expected. Life  was  dear  to  him.  He  was  in  the  midst  of  a  vigorous 
manhood  with  the  best  years  of  life  before  him.  He  was  eager  to  do 
the  work  he  had  planned.  Questions  of  the  day,  social  problems,  and 
religious  movements  had  claimed  much  of  his  attention.  In  the  midst 
of  this  he  was  stricken,  and  who  can  tell  the  thoughts  that  passed  in 
his  mind?  On  entering  the  room,  a  short  time  before  his  death,  he 
aroused  enough  to  recognize  me,  called  me  by  name,  and  took  my 
hand.  Later  on,  he  again  aroused  and  took  my  hand.  I  asked  him 
if  he  could  trust  in  the  Saviour.  He  responded  quickly, — "Oh,  yes, 
Christ,  Christ, — for  me  to  live  is  Christ,  and" — after  a  pause  as  if  to 
weigh  the  full  meaning  of  the  words, — "to  die  is  gain." 

To  me,  the  most  impressive  period  of  his  life  was  these  last  hours. 
His  sufferings  were  not  known  by  any  word  from  him.  I  have  never 
seen  one  so  brave  and  in  such  perfect  trust  in  the  hour  of  death. 

The  mother's  grief  that  she  should  have  been  separated 

from  her  son  when  he  would  seem  most  to  have  needed  her, 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  485 

can  be  better  imagined  than  described,  a  grief  aggravated 
by  the  feeling  that  had  she  been  there  at  the  beginning  of 
his  sickness,  she  might  have  taken  measures  that  others  did 
not  feel  at  liberty  to  suggest,  and  which  might  have  led  to 
a  different  result. 

To  the  rumors  that  her  son  was  not  only  resigned  but 
joyful  in  the  anticipation  of  leaving  this  world,  she  could 
not  give  credence.  She  knew  him  so  well,  with  his  abound- 
ing life,  his  far-reaching  plans  and  his  glowing  anticipa- 
tions, that,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  it  was  rather  a  relief  to 
her  to  find  that  he  passed  through  struggles  before  absolute 
resignation  came,  although  that  it  would  come  she  had,  of 
course,  no  doubt.  But  who  can  tell  what  conflicts  passed 
through  his  mind  before  he  could  say  without  hesitation — 
"To  die  is  gain!" 

The  following  poem,  with  the  comforting  result,  may  ex- 
press something  of  the  struggle  through  whiclr  he 
passed: — 

"I  had  been  ready  when  the  evening  came — 

Some  sheaves  had  proved  I  had  not  toiled  for  naught, — 

With  kindly  welcome  had  pronounced  thy  name, 
And  gladly  felt  the  rest  thy  presence  brought. 

"But  now,  in  sooth,  thou  comest  all  too  soon, 
And  tak'st  my  work  unfinished  from  my  hands ; 

Thou  bid'st  me  hence  when  day  is  at  the  noon; 
My  golden  harvest  all  ungathered  stands." 

"Think'st  thou  there  is  no  work  to  do  but  this? 

No  other  harvest  whitening  in  the  sun? 
That  any  change  can  rob  thee  of  the  bliss 

Of  sure  completion  of  the  task  begun?" 

I  turned  in  haste,  rebuked,  no  more  at  strife 

With  him  my  foolish  heart  had  shrank  to  meet, — 

And  lo !  God's  angel,  not  of  Death  but  Life, 
Before  me  stood,  and  drew  me  to  his  feet. 

Wishing  to  gather  every  particular  regarding  Edward's 
sickness,  his  mother  wrote  to  Dr.  Halsted,  who  replied: — 
"I  was  sent  for  when  it  was  so  late  that  it  was  absolutely 


486    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


without  hope  that  I  undertook  the  operation.  There  was, 
however,  a  chance  for  him,  perhaps,  and  I  felt  that  it  was 
my  duty  to  give  it  to  him.  He  was  my  tutor  at  Yale  Col- 
lege for  one  term,  but  I  did  not  recall  this  till  after  his 
death.  He  was  very  brave,  so  brave  that  I  commented 
upon  it  to  several  before  I  knew  who  he  was.  I  was  called 
out  of  town  soon  after  the  operation,  and  did  not  return  till 
he  had  passed  away.  I  will  ask  Dr.  Bloodgood,  who  was  in 
charge  of  Dr.  Lawrence,  to  write  you. 

Dr.  Bloodgood  adds: — "It  is  with  pleasure  and  much  sad- 
ness that  I  write  you, — pleasure  that  I  can  warm  a  moth- 
er's heart  with  the  knowledge  that  her  son  met  his  death 
with  so  much  calmness  and  courage;  sadness,  that  such  a 
useful  life  should  have  to  end  while  there  was  yet  so  much 
to  be  done.  After  the  operation,  he  asked  me  to  telegraph 
you,  if  we  considered  his  condition  dangerous.  On  the 
third  day,  he  asked  me  if  he  could  live.  I  told  him  he  was 
a  very  sick  man.  Whatever  his  sufferings  were,  in  mind  or 
body,  we  could  not  tell.  He  was  always  calm,  patient,  re- 
signed, and  his  end  surely  exemplified  that  comforting  say- 
ing, that  death  is  swallowed  up  in  victory." 

Edward's  last  service  in  the  church  was  the  preparatory 
lecture  on  Wednesday  evening,  November  ist,  ten  days  be- 
fore he  left  these  earthly  scenes.  Could- he  have  had  an  un- 
conscious prescience  that  it  was  the  last  time  he  should 
speak  to  his  beloved  people?  Many  have  spoken  of  that 
discourse  as  a  remarkable  one,  affecting  them  deeply. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

RESTS  HE  NOW. 
NOT  THIS! 

"What,  many  times  I  musing  asked,  is  man, 

If  grief  and  care 
Keep  far  from  him  ?  he  knows  not  what  he  can, 

What  cannot  bear. 

He,  till  the  fire  hath  purged  him,  doth  remain 

Mixed  all  with  dross : 
To  lack  the  loving  discipline  of  pain 

Were  endless  loss. 

Yet  when  my  Lord  did  ask  me  on  what  side 

I  were  content 
The  grief  whereby  I  must  be  purified, 

To  me  were  sent, 

As  each  imagined  anguish  did  appear. 

Each  withering  bliss 
Before  my  soul,  I  cried,  'Oh!  spare  me  here; 

Oh,  not,  not  this !' 

Like  one  that  having  need  of,  deep  within. 

The  surgeon's  knife. 
Would  hardly  bear  that  it  should  graze  the  skin, 

Though  for  his  life. 

Nay  then  but  he,  who  best  doth  understand 

Both  what  we  need 
And  what  can  bear,  did  take  my  case  in  hand. 

Nor  crying  heed." 

It  was  Edward's  custom  to  put  in  his  weekly  bulletin 
some  choice  selection  of  poetry.  In  one  of  his  latest  he 
was  led  to  insert  the  above  poem.  Was  it  some  uncon- 
scious premonition  that  moved  him  thus  in  advance  to 
voice  the  feelings  of  his  friends,  and  possibly  his  own? 
Who  can  tell  ?  '         I  i 


488   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Every  one  who  has  known  sorrow,  has  known  also  the 
consolation  that  comes  from  the  sympathy  of  friends.  Of 
such  consolation  those  bereaved  by  this  sudden  blow  had 
no  lack.  The  first  written  words  of  sympathy  came  from  a 
Catholic  priest  of  the  city,  Father  Starr,  at  one  time  Ed- 
ward's fellow-traveller  on  the  way  to  Chicago. 

M}'  Dear  Madam : — 

Will  you  pardon  me  for  intruding  upon  your  notice 
at  this  time,  to  offer  you  my  sincerest  condolence  upon  the  death  of 
your  esteemed  son,  Dr.  Lawrence,  between  whom  and  myself  very 
pleasant  relations  have  existed.  I  pray  God  to  help  you  in  bearing 
the  irreparable  loss  which  you  have  sustained.  It  is  very  like  an  im- 
pertinence to  tell  you  that  he  has  endeared  himself  to  hosts  of  people 
in  this  city,  outside  the  field  of  his  own  ministrations.    I  am 

Very  truly  yours, 

Wm.  E.  Starr. 

Corpus  Christi  Church,  Baltimore,  Nov.  nth,  1893. 

From  the  letters  from  Manchester,  where  Edward  had 
been  expected  to  make  his  promised  visit  at  about  this 
time,  a  few  extracts  are  given: — 

We  had  been  looking  forward  to  his  visit  with  increasing  delight. 
How  soon  was  our  joy  turned  into  sorrow!  As  we  gathered  for 
prayer  that  Friday  evening,  we  were  a  stricken  and  bereaved  com- 
pany, with  hearts  too  full  for  utterance.  A  grasp  of  the  hand  and  a 
few  words,  mingled  with  tears,  told  our  sorrow !  It  was  a  sad  ser- 
vice, and  those  dear  to  him  were  not  forgotten. 

One  of  the  deacons  said,  last  evening,  that  as  he  had  met  our  people 
on  the  street  in  the  afternoon,  they  looked  as  though  they  had  lost 
their  dearest  friend.  "Our  pastor  has  passed  away,"  was  the  feeling 
which  seemed  to  fill  every  heart.  At  the  prayer  meeting  everj^thing 
in  song  and  prayer  and  word  was  permeated  with  the  one  thought 
of  our  great  loss,  and  the  desire  to  know  what  lessons  God  would 
teach  us  thereby.  One  of  our  choicest  young  men  led  the  meeting, 
reading  the  passage  referring  to  Peter's  deliverance  from  prison,  and 
spoke  of  the  earnestness  with  which  the  church  had  been  praying  for 
Dr.  Lawrence's  recover}'.  "But,"  said  he,  "the  angel  has  indeed  deliv- 
ered him  from  prison,  the  gates  have  opened  for  him  into  the  Celestial 
City,  and  he  will  no  more  return  to  his  friends."  Many  wept  during 
the  ser\-ice.  and  it  seemed  as  though  we  could  not  have  felt  much 
worse  if  he  had  been  actually  our  pastor.  It  is  marvellous  what  a 
hold  he  had. gained  upon  the  hearts  even  of  those  who  had  never  seen 
him.  All  who  met  him  were  wonderfully  attracted.  I  count  it  a 
blessed  privilege  that  I  was  permitted  to  hear  him  preach  and  to  come 
for  a  brief  space  within  the  influence  of  the  spiritual  atmosphere  that 
surrounded  him. 

I  write  to  you  in  the  name  of  our  bitterly  disappointed  and  grief- 
stricken  church.    We  are  indeed  under  a  heavy  cloud,  j'et  our  tears 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  489 


fall  not  alone  for  ourselves.  We  realize  that  another  church  is 
mourning  for  a  dear  and  faithful  pastor  with  an  appreciation  which 
is  the  growth  of  years.  And  brief  as  our  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Law- 
rence had  been,  his  reverential  love  for  his  mother  was  well  known  to 
us,  making  it  possible  to  understand  something  of  her  feeling  at  the 
loss  of  such  a  son.  And  we  remember  the  sister,  and  another  whom 
we  hoped  to  welcome  among  us  to  be  our  friend  and  helper.  The 
sense  of  personal  bereavement  manifested  by  our  people  is  almost 
surprising,  and  expressions  of  deep  regret  come  to  us  from  other 
churches,  and  from  some  but  little  interested  in  any  church,  who 
realize  what  our  city  would  have  gained  in  such  a  man.  He  is  as 
truly  a  part  of  the  history  of  our  church-life  as  though  he  had  labored 
among  us.  We  have  felt  and  shall  feel  his  influence,  and  it  has  been 
good  for  us  to  have  had  even  this  brief  connection  with  him.  Our 
church  is  better  for  it  I  am  sure,  and  while  the  tender  and  harmonious 
spirit  which  now  prevails  will  lead  us  to  welcome  kindly  the  one 
whom  the  Lord  may  send  us,  we  shall  never  forget  Dr.  Lawrence. 

"Tlie  more  I  learn  of  the  feeling  of  the  people  towards 
Dr.  Lawrence,  the  more  mysterious  it  seems  that  he 
should  have  been  taken  from  us.  One  gentleman  who  has 
not  attended  our  church  and  rarely  went  into  any  church, 
met  Dr.  Lawrence  for  a  moment  when  he  was  here  and  was 
so  strongly  attracted  towards  him  that  when  the  news  of 
his  death  came,  he  said,  'I  do  not  know  when  I  have  felt 
anything  as  I  do  this.' 

"Another,  who  had  not  seen  him  and  who  has  not  been 
a  church-goer  for  several  years,  remarked  that  when  Dr. 
Lawrence  came,  he  meant  to  come  to  church  every  Sunday. 
These  are  only  samples  of  the  interest  he  aroused  even 
among  those  not  Christians  or  even  church-goers.  He  was 
a  man  of  wonderful  personal  magnetism.  A  reporter  was 
heard  to  say  that  he  did  not  know  when  the  death  of  one  so 
little  known  here  had  elicited  such  general  expressions  of 
sorrow." 

Meantime  from  all  quarters  came  letters  and  telegrams, 
while  many  outside  of  his  church,  as  well  as  his  own  peo- 
ple, called  to  offer  sympathy.  Among  these  was  his 
friend,  Professor  Peabody  of  Cambridge,  who,  as  inti- 
mated in  his  letter,  was  delivering  lectures  on  Sociology  at 
Johns  Hopkins  University. 


490   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

The  question,  so  unexpected,  came  to  his  mother,  where 
should  be  the  burial?  He  had  written  some  years  before, 
in  answer  to  her  inquiries: — "As  to  what  you  say  about 
securing  a  lot  in  the  cemetery,  I  feel,  with  father,  that  it 
matters  little  where  this  body  is  laid  when  I  have  done  with 
it.  As  for  the  grave,  we  do  not  care  where  it  is.  Do  not  be 
concerned  to  visit  the  spot  where  my  body  crumbles,  for  I 
shall  not  be  there." 

But  it  was  a  matter  of  importance  to  his  friends,  and  a 
lot  had  been  procured  in  the  Andover  Hill  cemetery, 
where  were  the  graves  of  many  relatives,  including  his 
grandfather,  his  uncle,  Leonard  Woods,  his  father  and  his 
sister  Carrie.  And  his  friends  there  naturally  inferred  that 
his  burial  place  would  be  in  his  father's  lot,  with  his  name 
inscribed  on  his  father's  family  monument.  There  was  no 
time  for  consultation,  but  his  mother  felt,  instinctively,  that 
his  grave  should  be  in  Greenmount,  where  not  only  his 
own  people,  but  the  poor  all  over  the  city  whom  he  had 
come  to  know  so  well,  could  visit  it.  And  it  was  therefore 
arranged  that  it  should  be  in  Mr.  Nunn's  family  lot. 

The  body  was  embalmed  and  taken  to  the  church  parlor, 
adjoining  his  study,  the  room  being  beautifully  decorated 
with  flowers.  No  one  who  saw  the  weeping  visitors  that 
thronged  around  the  casket  from  morning  till  night,  could 
doubt  the  place  that  Edward  held  in  the  hearts  of  the  com- 
munity. An  illustration  is  given  in  the  following  letter 
from  Miss  Amelia  Knipp: — 

Many  times  have  I  thought  of  writing  to  you  of  those  last  few  days 
at  the  church,  but  it  has  seemed  impossible  to  express  one-half  of  the 
loving,  touching  actions  of  those  hours.  It  was  more  what  was  done 
than  any  words  that  were  spoken,  that  showed  the  love  the  people 
bore  for  Mr.  Lawrence. 

One  lady,  whose  granddaughter  had  recently  died,  came  and  look- 
ing down  at  j'our  son,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  said,  "He  did  not 
think  when  he  was  comforting  us  how  soon  he  would  be  with  our 
child."  Then  she  told  me  of  his  coming  to  them  when  they  were  near- 
ly heartbroken  and  saying,  "She  is  one  of  the  flowers  that  God  has 
plucked."  To  feel  that  God  wanted  their  child  for  his  garden  was  the 
comfort  that  family  needed.    The  next  day  the  father  of  the  little  girl 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


491 


who  had  died  brought  all  of  the  children,  even  the  smallest  who  had 
to  be  held  in  his  father's  arm  to  see  your  son's  face,  and  as  each  one 
was  leaving  he  or  she  left  some  flowers  as  a  loving  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  their  Mr.  Lawrence.  Indeed  flowers  were  brought  by  al- 
most everybody  just  as  a  gift  of  love. 

The  mother  of  some  of  our  Sunday  School  children  came  into  the 
room  bringing  a  bunch  of  chrysanthemums  and  said,  with  tears 
streaming  down  her  cheeks,  "I  could  not  bring  much,  but  I  did  want 
to  do  something  for  him." 

One  of  our  little  girls  in  the  primary  department,  who,  so  far  as  I 
know,  has  no  religious  training  at  home,  wanted  to  be  lifted  up  to  see 
"her  minister." 

Almost  every  one  who  came  in  wanted  to  do  something  to  make 
the  surroundings  as  bright  and  beautiful  as  possible,  for  that  they 
knew  was  what  Mr.  Lawrence  liked  and  believed  was  right.  In  that 
same  connection  many  spoke  of  a  sermon  he  had  preached  one  even- 
ing on  "Death,"  and  how  he  said  then  when  death  entered,  the  time 
had  come  for  brightness  and  sunshine,  for  it  was  the  entrance  into  a 
more  beautiful  life. 

A  number  of  people,  bringing  their  children  to  see  him  who  had 
been  so  kind  to  them,  would  tell  of  one  and  another  thoughtful  act 
that  their  friend  Mr.  Lawrence  had  done  for  them,  giving  us  a 
glimpse  of  how  much  of  his  life  was  spent  in  going  around  and  doing 
good. 

Mr.  Thomson,  his  associate  in  Winans'  Tenements, 
writes: — "Among  the  large  crowd  was  one  of  the  two 
women  who  took  care  of  our  rooms.  When  I  saw  her 
there,  weeping,  I  went  up  and  shook  hands  with  her.  She 
was  too  full  to  speak,  and  tears  filled  her  eyes." 

The  Sunday  School  sent  palms  and  flowers,  tied  with 
white  ribbon,  and  the  King's  Daughters,  white  roses.  Pro- 
fessor Peabody's  tribute  was  a  large  bouquet  of  lovely 
roses.  Floral  stars,  crescents  and  crosses  were  also 
brought. 

The  funeral  was  on  Monday  morning,  November  13th, 
at  which  were  present  a  large  number  of  ministers  of  all 
denominations.  The  following  account  is  from  a  Balti- 
more paper: — 

The  funeral  of  the  dead  pastor  began  at  ten  o'clock.  The  chancel 
was  a  mass  of  floral  offerings,  some  of  costly  design,  while  many  sim- 
ple bouquets  of  flowers  were  sent  by  the  members  of  the  congregation. 
A  large  pall  of  chrysanthemums  and  roses  covered  the  casket.  This 
was  the  offering  of  the  Christian  Endeavor  Society. 


492   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Addresses  were  made  by  several  clergymen,  from  which 
full  extracts  are  given: — 

Said  Rev.  Maltbie  D.  Babcock,  of  the  Brown  Memorial 
Church,  Baltimore: — 

"It  is  not  death  to  die, 

To  leave  the  weary  road, 

And  'mid  the  brotherhood  on  high 

To  be  at  home  with  God." 

— Bethune. 

"The  brotherhood  on  high."  It  never  seemed  so  real  to  me  as  it 
has  done  since  this  man  entered  it.  He  is  still  serving  his  Master,  but 
there  instead  of  here ;  still  working  for  Jesus,  but  with  clearer  vision, 
wider  outlook,  better  tools,  unwearying  powers.  His  energy  seemed 
tireless  here,  his  vigor  unabated,  his  enthusiasm  never  so  great.  I 
think  it  is  this  that  makes  his  activity  in  the  New  Life  seem  so  real. 

His  friendship  was  always  a  blessing  and  delight  to  me.  There 
was  no  point  where  he  did  not  touch  me.  There  was  nothing  I  could 
not  tell  him.    He  was  always  sympathetic,  always  strong. 

He  was  rounded  on  all  sides,  thoroughly  balanced.  His  love  of 
books  was  met  and  matched  by  his  love  of  men ;  his  love  of  Grace  by 
his  love  of  Nature;  his  lofty  aspirations  by  lowliest  service:  his  logi- 
cal mind  by  his  playful  spirit. 

His  face  was  always  full  of  light.  Loving  sympathy,  keenest  inter- 
est, playful  humor  gleamed  in  his  eyes.  His  strong  face  was  one  of 
the  most  tenderly  affectionate  ones  that  I  have  ever  seen.  Radiant 
with  kindness,  it  will  be  to  me  a  beautiful  and  cherished  memory, 
and  a  bright  and  blessed  anticipation. 

Why  he  had  to  go  just  when  he  did,  and  just  as  he  did,  who  can 
tell  ?  I  do  not  think  we  shall  know  this  side  till  the  day  of  explana- 
tions. We  can  only  say  what  his  father  said,  and  what  satisfied 
him  as  well  all  his  life  through,    .    .    "Hoc  vult  Deus." 

There  are  after  all  but  two  solutions  of  our  dark  problems :  Fate 
or  Father.  I  will  not  say  "Fate."  "I  believe  in  God  the  Father 
Almighty,"  All-loving,  All-wise.  "Even  so.  Father,  for  so  it  seemeth 
good  in  Thy  sight." 

The  shadow  falls  on  us,  not  on  him  whom  God  has  called.  It  is 
we  who  are  dying,  he  is  alive  forevermore.  He  has  fought  the  good 
fight,  and  kept  the  faith. 

Life's  work  well  don?; 
Life's  race  well  run. 
Life's  crown  well  won. 

He  said  at  his  father's  funeral,  "This  is  not  a  house  of  mourning, 
though  there  is  mourning  in  the  house.  It  is  not  the  house  of  death, 
though  death  has  been  among  us.  We  do  not  sit  in  gloom,  clad  in 
emblems  of  despair.  We  welcome  to  these  rooms  the  air,  the  light, 
the  song  of  birds." 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


493 


The  sermon  that  Mr.  Lawrence  had  planned  to  preach  next  Sun- 
day was  on  the  text:  "I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I  awake  with  Thy 
likeness."    How  strangely  beautiful ! 

And  so  shall  we  be  satisfied  with  his  likeness,  and  with  his  love 
— the  love  that  marked  out  for  us  the  very  path  we  are  treading  to- 
day. 

Remarks  of  Rev.  Alexander  Proudfit,  D.  D.,  who  has 

followed  him  into  the  other  world: — 

Sixty  years  ago  two  ministers  labored  not  far  from  each  other  in 
New  England,  one  as  a  teacher,  the  other  as  a  pastor.  The  teacher 
was  the  grandfather  of  our  departed  brother,  the  pastor  the  father 
of  the  present  speaker.  Having  this  ancient  bond  of  union  we  soon 
became  acquainted  after  he  came  to  this  city  and  from  that  time  our 
acquaintance  grew  rapidly  and  ripened  into  friendship.  We  were  as- 
sociated in  various  ways.  There  is  an  organization  here  known  as 
"The  Eclectic  Club,"  composed  of  ministers  representing  some  seven 
denominations. 

I  am  here  to-day  as  the  president,  for  the  time,  of  the  organization, 
to  bear  my  personal  tribute,  and  to  lay  a  wreath  of  brotherly  affec- 
tion upon  the  bier  of  our  departed  member.  We  meet  monthly  at  the 
homes  of  the  members,  have  a  paper  upon  some  subject  chosen  at  the 
preceding  meeting,  and  a  free  discussion  in  which  all  participate.  In 
all  these  discussions  we  found  Brother  Lawrence  a  most  helpful  and 
instructive  member.  His  wide  reading,  his  intelligent  interest  in  all 
the  great  questions  of  the  day,  his  extensive  travel  and  observation, 
his  firm  grasp  upon  and  earnest  advocacy  of  truth,  caused  his  fellow 
members  to  listen  to  him  always  with  respect ;  while  at  the  same 
time  he  was  uniformly  courteous  and  entirely  destitute  of  the  air.  of 
"knowing  it  all." 

Two  things  especially  interested  him,  viz. :  sociology  and  missions. 

Upon  the  subject  of  sociology  he  was  probably  one  of  the  best  in- 
formed men  in  this  city,  going  so  far  as  to  reside  among  the  poor  in 
order  that  he  might  study  their  needs  more  accurately. 

Our  loss  and  that  of  this  church  and  of  the  community  is  great;  but 
the  loss  which  you,  his  dear  ones,  have  met  with,  is  unspeakable.  We 
tender  you  our  sincere  and  most  affectionate  sympathy. 

From  Rev.  S.  M.  Newman  of  the  First  Congregational 
Church  at  Washington,  D.  C: — 

When  I  first  looked  on  the  face,  and  studied  the  eyes  and  manner 
of  the  brother  we  mourn  today,  I  felt  that  I  saw  a  true  man,  a  spirit 
without  guile,  a  brother  and  friend  of  the  most  worthy  type.  The 
passing  months  have  confirmed  these  first  impressions.  I  have 
proved  him  to  be  a  friend  unchangeable,  with  perennial  geniality  and 
cheer,  with  ready  and  careful  wisdom,  a  true  heart,  and  faithful 
helper.  I  have  felt  the  power  of  his  life,  in  those  silent  and  effective 
ways  in  which  the  sunshine  and  gravitation  work. 

I  have  found  in  him  a  type  of  life  which  is  altogether  too  rare,  but 
which,  whenever  I  see  it.  reads  me  a  deep  lesson  concerning  the  pro- 
gress of  our  unfolding  faculties.    Nobody  could  be  with  Mr.  Law- 


494   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


rence  long  without  seeing  the  best  qualities  of  childhood,  simplicity, 
genuineness  and  all  the  rest,  enriching  everything  he  did.  He  was 
keeping  in  each  period  of  life  all  the  chief  qualities  and  graces  of  pre- 
ceding periods  in  full  and  active  exercise.  I  should  have  expected  to 
see  him,  if  he  had  been  spared  to  old  age,  retain  all  the  joys  and  char- 
acteristics of  each  great  part  of  life. 

Rev.    Francis  B.  Hall,  Edward's  friend    from  Platts- 

burg,  N.  Y.,   talked  lovingly  of  the   dead,  taking  his 

theme  from  the  text,  "Your  thoughts  are  not  my  thoughts, 

nor  your  ways  my  ways,  saith  the  Lord :  for  as  the  heavens 

are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  my  thoughts   and  ways 

higher  than  yours."  He  said  he  could  sum  up  the  character 

of  the  deceased  in  the  single  sentence.  "He  could  be  held 

up  to  the  sunlight  without  anyone  being  able  to  detect  a 

flaw  in  him." 

Rev.  Edward  T.  Root,  pastor  of  the  Second  Congrega- 
tional Church  in  Baltimore,  spoke  as  the  representative  of 
the  Congregational  churches.  He  told  how  warmly  he  had 
been  received  by  Dr.  Lawrence  when  he  came  to  Baltimore 
two  years  ago  to  take  charge  of  the  Second  Church,  and 
what  a  strength  the  deceased  had  been  to  him.  He  said: 
"I  feel  it  w^ould  be  out  of  place  for  me  to  deliver  a  formal 
eulogy,  because  it  seems  his  own  simple,  modest  nature 
would,  if  it  could,  resent  it.  It  would  seem  to  be  an  incon- 
gruity to  do  so.  I  therefore  simply  testify  these  plain  facts. 
Such  lives  as  his  demonstrate,  it  seems  to  me,  that  Christ 
Jesus  is  indeed  in  the  world.  His  last  request  was:  'Give 
me  a  drink  of  faith,  not  a  drink  of  water,  but  faith  to 
strengthen  me  in  the  last  conflict.' 

After  the  services,  the  casket  was  raised  on  the  shoulders 
of  the  bearers,  and,  preceded  by  Dr.  Newman,  and  the  hon- 
orary pall-bearers,  was  carried  slowly  from  the  church. 
The  Endeavorers  gathered  up  flowers  and  fern  leaves,  a 
number  of  them  going  at  once  to  Greenmount  and  waiting 
at  the  grave,  which  had  been  lined  with  arbor  vitae  and 
ferns.  Dr.  Newman  and  Rev.  Frank  Luckey  from  New 
Haven  spoke  briefly,  and  the  casket  was  lowered  in  silence. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


495 


Then  we  went  singly  and  threw  flowers  over  it,  after  which, 
ferns  were  scattered  till  the  grave  was  filled. 

Rose  bushes  have  since  been  planted  there  and  the  grave 
has  never  ceased,  summer  or  winter,  to  be  covered  with 
flowers.  Recently,  by  his  sister  and  a  friend,  a  simple  boul- 
der has  been  erected  at  its  head,  bearing  the  following  in- 
scription : — 

EDWARD    A.  LAWRENCE 
BORN  JAN.  i6,  1847 
WENT   HOME   NOV.   10,  1S93. 
I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I  awake  with  thy  likeness. 

Extracts  follow  from  a  sermon  preached  by  the  Rev. 

Hiram  Vrooman  before  the  Baltimore  Society  of  the  New 

Jerusalem  Church,  November  19th: — 

I  attended  the  funeral  services,  last  Monday  morning,  of  a  man  I 
very  well  knew  and  greatly  loved.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Lawrence  impressed 
me  as  a  man  with  an  indomitable  will,  who  brought  all  the  force  of 
his  strong  character  against  the  evils  of  life.  He  reached  out  as  far 
as  his  powers  enabled  him  to  make  men  better.  He  shrank  from  no 
duty.  Discomfort  or  personal  sacrifice  were  never  -allowed  to  stay 
him  in  accomplishing  any  good  work  that  he  could  perform.  He 
was  called  very  suddenly  from  us.  His  going  was  unexpected  to  him. 
Doubtless,  the  knowledge  that  he  must  depart  caused  him  suffering. 
I  believe  that  his  longing  to  fill  the  great  opportunities  for  usefulness 
that  he  saw  before  him  bound  him  to  this  world  with  strong  desire. 
In  his  death,  I  was  separated  from  a  friend.  I  feel  that  a  power  has 
been  taken  to  heaven  that  was  needed  in  this  world.  But  the  Lord 
in  a  loving  and  merciful  providence  knew  otherwise.  Let  us  trust 
in  him. 

I  cannot  better  close  this  chapter  than  with  the  following 
beautiful  tribute  froin  James  Buckham,  whose  poems  have 
comforted  so  many  hearts: — 

His  was  a  soul  with  pure  devotion  warm, 
A  noble  mind,  to  noble  issues  keyed, 
A  hand  outstretched  to  every  brother's  need — 

God's  stamp  of  manhood  on  his  face  and  form. 

So  moved  he  in  unconscious  Christlikeness 
Along  the  path  of  duty,  cheerful  e'er. 
But  ready  still  some  other's  pain  to  share. 

Or  by  his  toiling  make  some  burden  less. 


49^    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


His  smile  was  sunshine,  and  his  firm,  sweet  voice 
Brought  peace  and  strength  to  many  a  troubled  soul. 
There  spoke  a  heart,  man-loving,  true,  and  whole. 

In  touch  with  those  who  sorrow  or  rejoice. 

What  epitaph  could  honor  such  as  he? 

Things  done  his  praise,  and  things  which  he  began. 

He  stood  four-square,  full  statured ;  was  a  man 
God  loved;  such  let  the  simple  record  be. 

From  the  first  moment,  when  I  felt  the  warm,  sincere  grasp  of 
Mr.  Lawrence's  hand,  and  looked  into  that  face,  so  strong,  so  sym- 
pathetic, so  manfully  winning,  I  knew  him  for  a  friend,  a  friend  to 
honor  and  to  love,  to  lean  upon  with  confidence  and  to  serve  with 
gladness. 

I  never  met  a  man  who  more  ideally  fulfilled  my  conception  of  the 
word  manhood  than  did  Mr.  Lawrence.  Strength  was  written  all 
over  him — strength  physical,  mental  and  spiritual.  He  had  the 
healthful  aspect  of  a  lover  of  God's  great  out-door  world.  His  con- 
versation, his  writing,  his  public  address,  his  very  cast  of  counten- 
ance, displayed  the  strong,  well-balanced,  well-informed  mind  of  a 
thinker  whose  intellectual  power  has  character  for  foundation.  A 
man  of  spotless  life,  of  pure  and  high  ideals,  of  noble  unselfishness, 
of  tender  sympathies ;  self-controlled,  yet  not  self-conscious  nor  self- 
righteous  ;  earnest,  patient,  devoted,  chivalric ;  quick  to  the  truly 
lovely  and  innocently  joyous  things  of  life,  yet  grand  in  his  hatred 
and  contempt  of  everything  base  and  low  and  unmanly;  with  sym- 
pathies as  broad  as  the  sky,  controlled  by  convictions  as  deep  as  the 
sea — such  was  this  manliest  of  men,  whom  God  has  seen  fit  to  call 
to  himself. 

Almost  my  first  impression  of  Mr.  Lawrence  was  that  he  was  born 
to  be  a  leader  of  men,  and  especially  of  young  men.  He  had  the 
qualities  which  attract  and  win  and  unconsciously  influence  the  mind 
and  heart  of  youth.  He  was  young  himself — never  lost,  and  never 
would  have  lost,  the  atmosphere  and  spirit  of  youth ;  and  this  gave 
him  ready  and  willing  admission  to  the  hearts  and  lives  of  young 
persons.  I  had  hoped  to  see  him  some  time  intimately  associated, 
as  mental  and  spiritual  guide,  with  some  great  organized  body  of 
youth.  I  think  he  would  have  been  a  perfect  tower  of  strength  to 
any  college  or  college  church. 

But  I  am  sure  that  God  has  not  quenched  that  hopeful  spirit  by 
calling  it  away  from  earth.  Somewhere  an  equal  labor,  an  equal 
fitness,  an  equal  reward,  await  him.  Earth  is  not  the  only  training 
school  of  character,  the  only  home  of  generous  enthusiasm  and  earn- 
est endeavor  and  noble  achievement.  Somewhere  under  the  stars  of 
God  that  manful  spirit  loves  and  toils  and  hopes  and  waits.  _  To  the 
Land  whither  we  are  going,  he  has  gone,  a  little  sooner,  like  one 
who  presses  on  with  swifter,  surer  step  to  see  the  sunrise  from  the 
summit  of  the  hill. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 


RESOLUTIONS  AND  MEMORIALS. 

Where  grows  the  golden  grain, 
Where  faith, — where  sympathy? 
In  a  furrow,  cut  by  pain. 

— Maltbie  D.  Babcock. 
Resolutions  of  sympathy  were  received  from: — 
The  First  Congregational  Church  of  Baltimore. 
The  Y.  P.  S.  C.  E.  of  the  Baltimore  Church. 
The  Maryland  Sunday  School  Union. 
The  Baltimore  Charity  Organization  Society. 
The  Eclectic  Club. 

The  Baltimore  Ministers'  Association. 
The  Northern  New  Jersey  Conference. 
The  Washington  Conference. 

The  Washington  Association  of  Congregational  Min- 
isters. 

The  Sing  Sing  Christian  Endeavor  Society. 
The  Goodwill  Congregational  Church,  Syracuse. 
The  Abbott  Academy  Club. 
These  Resolutions,  full  of  warm  appreciation  of  dear  Ed- 
ward, and  of  tenderest  sympathy  for  the  survivors,  there  is 
room  only  to  name. 

A  few  brief  Memorials  follow : — 

Manchester,  N.  H.,  Nov.  13th,  1893. 
To  the  First  Congregational  Church,  Baltimore,  Md., 
The  First  Church,  Manchester,  N.  H.,  sendeth  greeting: 
Dear  brethren  in  Christ  Jesus : — 

We  wish  to  extend  our  deepest  sympathy 
to  you  in  this  time  of  sorrow,  and  to  be  permitted  to  mourn  with  you 
over  the  sudden  death  of  your  noble  and  beloved  pastor. 

It  is  probably  known  to  you  that  we  had  urgently  called  Dr.  Law- 
rence to  a  new  field.    We  had  not  yet  received  his  answer,  and  we 


498   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


knew,  from  his  lips,  how  hard  it  would  be  to  sever  his  connection 
with  }-ou.    His  removal  from  earth  was  the  death  knell  of  our  hopes. 

Having  for  a  brief  time  felt  the  magnetism  of  his  presence,  and  the 
warm  clasp  of  his  hand,  we  understand  better  what  your  grief  must 
be,  who  have  enjoyed  with  him  years  of  close  friendship  and  mutual 
service. 

With  the  prayer  that  God  may  abide  with  and  comfort  you,  and 
provide  you  a  future  leader, 

We  remain, 
Yours  in  Christian  fellowship, 

E.  T.  Baldwin.  Deacon. 
Marj-  F.  Dana.  Parish  Visitor. 

Committee  for  the  Church. 

From  Rev.  Edward  Tallmadge  Root,  now  a  pastor  in 
Providence,  R.  I.: — 

On  Saturday,  Oct.  31,  1891,  I  received  a  letter,  bearing  the  unfa- 
miliai  post-mark  of  Baltimore,  and  signed  with  the  unfamiliar  name 
of  Edward  A.  Lawrence.  I  had  recently  graduated  from  Yale  Sem- 
inar}-,  and  was  looking  for  a  permanent  charge.  The  unknown 
writer  told  of  a  promising  young  church,  the  Second  Congregational 
of  Baltimore,  asking  if  I  would  preach  for  them  two  Sundays,  he  be- 
ing interested  as  pastor  of  the  First  Church.  Going  to  New  Haven 
for  further  consultation.  I  was  so  much  impressed  by  what  he  said, 
and  more  by  what  he  was,  that  I  went  to  Baltimore,  and  was  thus 
led  to  the  pastorate  of  the  Second  Church.  I  should  never  have  ac- 
cepted the  call  but  for  the  kind  letter  which  Mr.  Lawrence  wrote, 
after  the  call  was  extended,  in  which  he  said:  "I  believe  you  to  be 
the  man  for  them.  .  .  Personally,  I  look  forward  to  a  great  deal 
of  satisfaction  and  brotherlj-  intercourse,  if  you  come." 

The  brotherly  intercourse  began  my  first  Saturday'  in  Baltimore, 
when  Mr.  Lawrence  took  me  for  a  most  delightful  walk  through 
Druid  Hill  Park  and  the  markets.  His  enthusiastic  love  of  nature 
and  men,  and  his  wide  culture  greatly  impressed  me,  as  also  his  tact 
in  making  a  younger  man  feel  perfectly  at  ease.  This  impression 
was  only  deepened  bj'  all  my  further  acquaintance  with  him. 

As  an  adviser  he  was  most  sympathetic  and  helpful.  When  I  went 
to  him.  anxious  and  burdened  with  church  troubles,  I  came  away 
cheered  and  hopeful.  It  was  not  so  much  what  he  said  as  his  abil- 
ity perfectly  to  comprehend  and  sympathize.  Some  men's  s^-mpathy 
makes  one  weak;  his  made  one  strong.  I  only  regret  that  I  did  not 
seek  it  oftener.  His  heartj'  words  after  I  had  read  before  the  Pres- 
byterian Ministers'  meeting  the  summary  chapter  of  The  Bible  on 
Wealth, — "I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  have  been  doing  such  thorough 
work," — coming  from  such  an  expert  in  sociology',  encouraged  me 
not  a  little.    His  simple  sincerity  made  such  praise  more  valuable. 

My  impressions  of  Mr.  Lawrence  may  be  thus  summed  up:  His 
life  made  it  easier  to  believe  that  there  has  been  on  earth  such  a  life 
as  that  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


499 


Remarks  of  John  Haynes,  a  graduate  student  in  Johns 
Hopkins  University,  made  at  the  Y.  P.  S.  C.  E.  Memorial 
meeting: — 

Mr.  Lawrence  possessed  a  rare  equipment  for  his  work.  To  the 
training  of  a  college  and  theological  school  he  added  an  advanced 
course  of  study  in  Europe,  so  that  when  he  entered  upon  his  life- 
work  as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  he  possessed  an  education  seldom 
equalled  for  thoroughness  and  breadth.. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  things  about  the  man  was  his  modesty 
and  his  sympathy  with  human  life ;  giving  his  time  and  efforts  to  the 
commonest  of  common  humanity.  His  life  proves  the  entire  compat- 
ibility of  practical  activity  and  scholarly  attainments.  Herein  he 
was  a  most  helpful  example  to  university  men. 

But  even  in  his  charities  and  practical  work  he  was  scientific.  He 
applied  to  all  his  work  the  methods  of  science.  In  the  sermons  which 
he  preached,  this  fall,  on  sociological  problems  he  exhibited  his  firm 
grasp  of  the  best  thought  on  the  subjects  in  question.  There  has 
been  at  the  university  as  a  lecturer  one  of  the  most  distinguished  of 
American  economists,  who  was  an  auditor  at  some  of  Mr.  Lawrence's 
evening  services.  This  gentleman,  in  a  brief  conversation  with  me 
at  the  close  of  a  service,  expressed  his  great  satisfaction  with  the  in- 
tellectual and  scientific  character  of  the  sermon. 

No  minister  in  Baltimore  was  more  closely  associated  with  our 
University  than  was  Dr.  Lawrence.  Since  my  connection  with 
the  institution  he  has  spoken  to  the  members  of  the  University  Y.  M. 
C.  A.  oftener  than  any  other  minister  in  the  city.  We  may  learn  from 
the  life  of  this  man  that  scholarship  can  go  hand  in  hand  with  the  ut- 
most modesty  and  the  most  sincere  practical  sympathy  with  human 
need ;  that  scholarshp  and  deep  spiritual  life  are  in  no  way  inconsis- 
tent ;  that  knowledge  of  Christian  missions  should  be  part  of  the  edu- 
cational equipment  of  every  Christian. 

Said  one  of  the  Christian  Endeavorers,  who  was  a  promi- 
nent helper  in  the  tenement  work: — 

"Let  us,  then,  as  we  cared  for  him  who  was  the  soul  and 
center  of  the  whole,  give  ourselves  tO'  the  work  and  for 
his  sake  and  the  Master's  in  whose  name  all  was  done,  let 
us  try  to  make  it  worthy  of  him  to  whom  it  was  so  dear." 

There  was  a  touching  address  on  Edward's  tender  sym- 
pathy with  those  in  affliction,  making  their  sorrows  as  it 
were  his  own,  yet  at  the  same  time  bringing  peculiar  conso- 
lation. This  address  I  have  been  unable  to  procure. 

At  the  same  Memorial  service,  Mr.  Belt  spoke  of  Mr.  Lawrence 
as  "a  friend."  Some  years  ago  there  was  over  the  doorway  of  the 
social  room  at  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association  this  motto: 
"He  who  would  have  friends  must  show  himself  friendly."  If  this 
is  true,  Mr.  Lawrence's  friends  must  have  been  without  number.  No 


500  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


one  could  meet  the  smiling  eye  or  feel  the  warm  grasp  of  the  hand, 
without  an  invitation  contained  therein  to  be  friends.  You  had  no 
ice  to  break  through;  at  once  you  knew  the  man.  There  was  no 
surface ;  he  was  through  and  through.    Your  need  was  his  need. 

I  had  an  opportunity  last  summer,  while  we  were  in  the  mountains 
of  North  Carolina,  to  know  more  of  him,  to  see  how  his  strong, 
hopeful  spirit  was  not  of  times  or  seasons,  but  continuous,  for  we 
tramped,  slept  and  ate  together.  When  I  would  be  completely  worn 
our  during  some  mountain  climb,  he  was  ready  with  his  song  or  some 
cheering  story  to  make  me  forget  my  tired  feelings  and  press  on  at 
his  side.  No  one  was  more  considerate  of  others  and  ready  to  do  a 
generous  act.  What  he  was  in  our  home  I  cannot  express.  It  was 
with  joy  that  we  heard  his  footstep  and  quick  ring  at  the  door. 
Time  slipped  away  unconsciously  while  he  remained,  and  it  was  al- 
ways with  regret  we  saw  him  go.  With  him  one  always  felt  an  in- 
spiration to  be  one's  best  self,  and  was  stronger  for  service  to  God 
and  our  fellow  men  for  knowing  him  as  a  friend.  Now  when  we 
shall  see  him  here  no  more  let  us  look  up  and  take  courage  to  do 
more  manfully  our  best  in  life's  battle  because  we  have  known  such 
a  man. 

Baltimore,  Nov.  22nd,  1^93. 

Dear  Mrs.  Lawrence  : — 

We  missed  Mr.  Lawrence  at  our  meeting  to-day, 
because  when  he  came  in  he  always  made  us  feel  so  bright  and  happy. 
We  wish  he  was  here  with  us  still,  but  yet  we  are  joyful  because  he 
has  gone  to  the  great  and  good  city  above.  We  hope  when  we  go  to 
Heaven  we  will  see  him  there.  We  loved  him  so,  and  we  will  never 
forget  how  happy  he  made  us  when  he  was  with  us.  We  will  try  to 
carry  on  our  meetings  just  the  same  as  if  he  was  with  us,  and  we 
will  try  to  lead  faithful  lives  so  that  we  may  meet  him  in  Heaven. 

Junior  Christian  Endeavor  Society  of  the  First  Congregational 
Church. 

Dear  Mrs.  Lawrence : — 

The  children  and  teachers  of  the  Primary  Depart- 
ment send  you  these  flowers  with  much  love  and  sympathy. 

Gertrude  B.  Knipp, 

Superintendent. 

In  connection  with  the  Memorial  of  the  Christian  En- 
deavor Society  of  the  Baltimore  Church,  is  given  that  from 
Plymouth  Church,  Syracuse: — 

Among  all  the  organizations  connected  with  Plymouth  Church 
none  has  a  keener  sense  of  bereavement  by  the  death  of  Dr.  Lawrence 
than  the  Y.  P.  S.  C.  E.,  and  none  is  more  truly  bereft.  He  was  its 
founder,  its  adviser,  its  helper,  its  friend. 

Long  before  the  National  and  State  organizations  of  Christian  En- 
deavor societies  were  known,  the  prophetic  faith  of  Dr.  Lawrence 
had  measured  the  possibilities  of  youth  when  united  and  inspired 
with  zeal  for  Christian  work.  Through  his  efforts  a  little  band  of 
youthful  Christians  were  brought  together  and  pledged  to  work  for 
Christ  and  the  Church. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


The  beginnings  were  feeble;  but  the  pastor's  faith  faltered  not. 
He  was  called  to  other  fields  before  he  was  permitted  to  see  the  fruits 
of  his  labors.  But  the  seed  which  he  had  planted  possessed  the  germ 
of  a  strong  and  vigorous  life.  When  he  visited  us  on  his  return 
from  his  missionary  journey  he  found  his  hopes  in  a  great  measure 
realized. 

The  society  has  grown  to  be  an  important  factor  in  the  life  of  the 
church.  To  many  of  its  members  his  call  from  earth  is  a  deep  per- 
sonal loss. 

The  Plymouth  Young  People's  Society  as  a  body  desire  to  express 
in  these  few  words  their  tender  regard  for  the  memory  of  Dr.  Law- 
rence, and  their  sympathy  with  those  who  are  dear  to  him. 

At  the  Poughkeepsie  Memorial  service  there  was  a  large 
attendance,  many  being  present  from  other  churches.  Of 
the  abundant  testimonies  from  various  quarters  only  two 
or  three  brief  extracts  can  be  given: — 

"Rev.  Dr.  Wheeler  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  among 
other  things,  said: — "Mr.  Lawrence  was  not  only  a  scholar, 
but  a  gentleman,  and  that  means  a  great  deal.  He  was  a 
man  of  piety  and  learning,  coupled  with  that  other  endow- 
ment of  common  sense  and  tact  which  makes  a  successful 
preacher.  What  was  true  of  our  Lord  and  Master  was 
true  of  him, — always  for  the  under  man,  the  down-trodden. 
There  never  was  a  man  so  mean,  or  a  woman  so  fallen,  but 
that  he  would  try  to  lift  them  up !'' 

From  Rev.  Dr.  Van  Giesen  of  the  First  Reformed 
Church : — "He  was  so  much  of  a  man  that,  like  the  Master, 
virtue  went  out  to  those  who  touched  him.  The  whole  city 
is  indebted  to  him  for  what  he  did  here.  He  was  one  of 
the  kings  and  priests  of  God,  and  he  has  received  his 
crown.'' 

MEMORIAL  OF  THE  REV.  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  D.  D. 

We,  the  members  of  the  Syracuse  Browning  Club,  desire  to  put  on 
record  our  high  estimate  of  the  life  and  character  of  the  Rev.  Edward 
A.  Lawrence,  D.  D.,  and  our  feeling  of  loss  in  his  death. 

He  was,  for  several  years,  one  of  our  most  active  members,  and  one 
of  the  most  careful  students  of  the  writings  of  Browning. 

In  all  personal  and  social  relations  with  us  he  always  manifested 
the  utmost  courtesy  and  cordiality. 

His  self-abnegation,  courage  and  patience  strengthened,  sweetened 
and  ennobled  his  entire  life. 


503.  REMIXISCEXCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AXD  WORK 


Recognizing  his  man}-  excellences,  and  the  broad  outlook  for  use- 
fulness which  these  gave  him,  we  heartilj'  sj-mpathize  with  his  many 
friends  in  their  sorrow. 

And  into  the  sacred  circle  of  his  home,  where  love  intensifies  all  re- 
lations, we  desire  to  send  the  comfort  of  knowing  that  we  grieve  with 
them. 

Syracuse,  January  twenty,  1894. 

PROSPICE. 

Fear  death'' — to  feel  the  fog  in  my  throat. 

The  mist  in  my  face. 
When  the  snows  begin,  and  the  blasts  denote 

I  am  nearing  the  place, 
The  power  of  the  night,  the  press  of  the  storm, 

The  post  of  the  foe ; 
Where  he  stands,  the  Arch  Fear  in  a  visible  form. 

Yet  the  strong  man  must  go ; 
For  the  journey  is  done  and  the  summit  attained, 

And  the  barriers  fall. 
Though  a  battle's  to  fight  'ere  the  guerdon  be  gained. 

The  reward  of  it  all. 
I  was  ever  a  fighter,  so — one  fight  more. 

The  best,  and  the  last ! 
I  would  hate  that  death  bandaged  mj-  e}-es,  and  forebore, 

And  bade  me  creep  past. 
No !  let  me  taste  the  whole  of  it,  fare  like  my  peers. 

The  heroes  of  old. 
Bear  the  brunt,  in  a  minute  pay  glad  life's  arrears 

Of  pain,  darkness  and  cold. 
For  sudden  the  worst  turns  the  best  to  the  brave, 

The  black  minute's  at  end. 
And  the  elements  rage,  the  fiendish  voices  that  rave, 

Shall  dwindle,  shall  blend, 
Shall  change,  shall  become  first  a  peace,  then  a  joj-. 

Then  a  light,  then  a  love. 

And  with  God  be  the  rest. 

At  the  Sing  Sing  memorial  sen-ice: — 

Remarks  by  Mr.  D.  E.  Provost  of  Sing  Sing: — 

Five  }-ears  ago  last  June,  when  our  pastor  was  obliged  to  take  a 
vacation,  we  invited  the  Rev.  Mr.  Lawrence  to  preach  for  us  one  Sab- 
bath. He  was  then  invited  to  take  charge  of  the  church  for  a  period  of 
some  five  or  six  months,  and  before  the  expiration  of  that  time  he  re- 
ceived the  further  invitation  to  continue  his  work  among  us  for  the 
balance  of  the  year. 

In  his  pastoral  work.  Mr.  Lawrence  was  highly  acceptable  to  the 
people,  manifesting  a  perfect  genius  for  getting  into  the  hearts  of  the 
young  people,  and  inducing  them  to  engage  in  some  personal  work  for 
the  Master.  He  was  the  father  of  the  Young  People's  Society  for. 
Christian  Serv  ice,  which  later  became  the  Y.  P.  S.  C.  E. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  S03 


By  Mr.  John  F.  Miller,  a  German  member  of  the  Sing 

Sing  church: — 

I  am  very  thankful  that  the  dear  Lord  sent  Mr.  Lawrence  to  us  as 
a  pastor.  I  dearly  loved  to  hear  him  as  a  preacher,  because  he  always 
preached  the  pure  gospel.  And  I  loved  him  as  a  pastor.  Having  me*: 
with  a  very  serious  accident,  which  proved  almost  fatal,  and  whicn 
laid  me  up  five  long  weeks,  his  visits  were  quite  frequent,  and  he  al- 
ways engaged  with  us  in  prayer,  and  giving  us  such  comfort  in  our 
affliction  that  his  name  became  a  household  word.  I  remember  be- 
ing with  him  in  Sparta,  where  he  officiated  at  a  wedding,  and  I  still 
recall  the  fatherly  advice  which  he  gave  to  the  bride  and  groom,  and 
the  earnest  prayer  he  offered  for  their  welfare ;  and  on  our  way  home, 
passing  up  Spring  Street,  he  made  remarks  about  the  beautiful  scen- 
ery which  lay  before  us,  the  beautiful  Hudson  dotted  with  steam- 
boats and  sailing  vessels,  and  the  beautiful  mountains,  and  the  beauti- 
ful sunset,  telling  us  of  a  great  Creator,  who  is  also  our  Father,  and 
his  whole  conversation  was  about  spiritual  things ;  and  I  am  to-day 
very  thankful  that  I  have  been  permitted  to  be  in  company  with  such 
a  godly  man.  The  last  time  he  was  in  Sing  Sing  he  came  to  my  office, 
saying  that  he  had  about  ten  minutes  to  spare  in  waiting  for  the  train, 
and  he  thought  that  he  would  come  over  to  my  office  and  see  dear 
Brother  Miller,  telling  me  that  very  soon  he  would  move  down 
among  the  poor,  degraded  people,  that  by  that  he  could  reach  them 
better,  and  lead  them  to  a  spiritual  life,  bidding  me  a  very  affec- 
tionate good-bye,  not  thinking  that  this  was  the  last  time  we  should 
meet  on  this  earth.  Help,  Lord,  for  the  godly  man  ceaseth !  I  pray 
earnestly  that  God  will  send  the  Comforter  to  that  dear,  widowed 
mother,  to  sustain  her  in  this  very  great  boreavement;  and  may  at 
evening  time  light  be  granted  unto  her. 

By  Mrs.  F.  H.  Wales:— 

I  should  feel  that  I  was  not  doing  justice  to  the  memory  of  Mr. 
Lawrence,  if  I  did  not  raise  my  voice  in  appreciation  of  his  character 
and  work  while  among  us  here  in  Sing  Sing. 

The  one  quality  which  always  comes  most  forcibly  to  my  mind  was 
his  joyous  disposition.  It  mattered  not  whether  in  private  conversa- 
tion. Committee  Conference,  or  in  the  socials  of  our  Endeavor  So- 
ciety, he  always  filled  those  with  whom  he  came  in  contact  with  hope 
and  enthusiasm  for  the  work.  I  believe  a  good  measure  of  the  cour- 
age with  which  I  have  undertaken  Christian  work  since  knowing  him 
has  been  inspired  by  his  happy  Christian  zeal. 

By  Mr.  F.  A.  Wales:— 

I  have  known  Mr.  Lawrence,  probably,  longer  than  any  one  in  Sing 
Sing.  I  became  acquainted  with  him  when  he  went  to  the  Poughkeep- 
sie  pastorate.  My  sister  was  a  member  of  his  cluirch  in  that  city,  and 
I  attended  whenever  I  visited  my  mother  and  sister,  who  resided 
there  for  a  number  of  years.  After  Mr.  Lawrence  had  been  there 
some  time,  I  was  forced  to  take  a  vacation  from  business  in  New 
York  City,  by  reason  of  sickness,  and  it  was  at  that  time  that  I  be- 
came more  intimately  acquainted  with  him.    I  always  found  him  a 


504    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


beloved  companion  and  friend — and  know  that  he  was  held  in  high 
esteem  and  loving  regard  in  Poughkeepsie,  both  in  and  outside  of  his 
own  church. 

Poughkeepsie  not  being  my  home,  I  lost  track  of  Mr.  Lawrence  for 
some  years,  and  it  was  with  feelings  of  mutual  delight,  I  believe,  that 
we  again  met  in  the  church  work  in  Sing  Sing.  Our  old  intimate  re- 
lations were  renewed  to  a  large  extent,  and  when  he  conceived  the 
plan  of  organizing  the  Young  People's  Society  of  Christian  Service, 
he  insisted  upon  my  becoming  its  first  president. 

The  growth  and  zeal  which  characterized  that  branch  of  his  labor 
among  us,  is  the  best  and  most  lasting  monument  of  his  work  while 
he  remained  in  Sing  Sing. 

By  Mr.  Stanton  Cady: — 

It  fell  to  me  to  go  through  the  congregation  with  Mr.  Lawrence 
and  make  him  acquainted  with  our  people,  and  in  this  way  we  came  to 
know  each  other  in  a  manner  we  never  could  have  done  in  our  ordi- 
nary church  relations.  We  used  to  take  long  walks  together.  He 
was  a  splendid  conversationalist,  full  of  the  scenes  and  incidents  of 
his  travels,  which  he  described  in  a  most  interesting  way.  His  heart 
was  in  his  work.  I  recall  very  vividly  his  urgent  appeals  to  those 
we  called  on  who  were  out  of  Christ,  the  ease  with  which  he  ap- 
proached the  subject  and  the  strong,  practical  way  in  which  he  placed 
the  duty.  I  recall  three  persons  to  whom  he  made  such  appeals  who 
soon  after  became  members  of  our  church. 

But  his  crowning  work  with  us  is  the  Christian  Endeavor  Society. 
The  young  people  all  loved  him,  and  he  knew  just  how  to  handle 
them.  No  one  before  him  ever  succeeded  in  creating  the  interest  and 
enthusiasm  in  a  young  people's  organization  that  he  did.  And  our 
society  to-day  is  a  monument  to  his  memory. 

By  Miss  Clara  C.  Fuller,  Principal  of  Ossinning 
School : — 

I  cannot  listen  to  all  these  beautiful  tributes  to  our  dear  friend 
without  adding  a  word. 

The  one  year  which  Mr.  Lawrence  spent  with  us  at  Ossinning  will 
never  be  forgotten  by  any  member  of  the  family.  His  presence  was 
a  benediction.  He  had  the  most  wonderful  insight  into  the  minds  of 
those  about  him ;  he  seemed  to  know  what  each  one  needed.  I  used 
almost  to  wonder  if  he  did  not  prepare  his  table  conversation,  for  it 
seemed  to  be  adapted  to  every  need.  He  would  add  some  item  of 
musical  interest  to  our  musicians;  some  point  on  art  for  our  artist; 
something  for  the  youngest  as  well  as  for  the  eldest.  He  was  our 
encyclopedia.  We  would  save  up  questions  on  all  subjects,  and  he 
could  always  answer  them. 

He  was  an  all-round,  symmetrical  man.  He  enjoyed  all  healthful, 
vigorous  exercise.  He  enjoyed  games,  recreation,  and  fun.  This 
was  an  "open  sesame"  to  the  hearts  and  sympathies  of  the  girls. 
I  feel  that  the  impress  of  high-thinking,  purity,  and  Christian  living 
that  he  stamped  upon  Ossinning  will  never  be  effaced. 

Another  beautiful  trait  in  Mr.  Lawrence's  character  was  his  loving 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  50$ 

devotion  to  his  mother.  There  was  nothing  which  impressed  me 
more  when  he  was  with  us,  and  nothing  which  I  so  love  to  remember 
as  their  devotion  to  each  other.  He  was  the  centre  about  which  her 
life  revolved. 

There  comes  to  me  at  just  this  time  a  letter  from  a  friend 
in  Ossinning  School,  Sing  Sing,  giving  an  account  of  the 
tenth  anniversary  of  the  C.  E.  Society  founded  by  Edward 
in  the  Presbyterian  church  the  year  that  he  took  charge  of 
it.  She  writes  that  with  the  various  speakers  "the  warm 
references  to  him  touched  the  deepest  note  in  the  meeting." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 


RELIEF  IN  WORK. 

When  bursts  the  rose  of  the  spirit 

From  its  withering  calyx  sheath, 
And  the  bud  has  become  a  blossom 

Of  heavenly  color  and  breath, 
Life  utters  its  true  revelation 

Through  the  silence  that  we  call  death. 

— Lucy  Larcom. 

When  one  who  is  a  part  of  our  hfe  is  suddenly  taken 
from  us,  the  heart  utterly  refuses  to  credit  its  overwhelming 
loss.  And  as  day  by  day  the  evidences  multiply,  the  sense 
of  desolation  grows  more  and  more  keen.  At  such  a  time, 
work  which  occupies  hand  and  heart  is  the  best  human 
remedy.  And  for  Edward's  mother  there  was  no  lack  of 
such  work.  Of  immediate  urgency,  there  was  the  study  in 
the  church,  with  all  its  precious  associations,  and  where  I 
had  passed  so  many  happy  hours  with  him,  to  be  despoiled 
of  its  treasures.  And  for  three  weeks  I  spent  day  after 
day  in  this  heart-rending  task.  Letters  partly  written 
were  in  his  desk,  and  on  the  outside  was  a  sermon  com- 
menced for  the  following  Sunday,  from  the  text:  "1  shall 
be  satisfied  when  I  awake  with  thy  likeness." 

Among  the  treasures  gathered  from  his  desk,  and  which 

are  sacredly  preserved,  are  some  thoughts  on  Graciousness, 

so  characteristic  that  I  cannot  forbear  giving  them,  and 

also  A  Birthday  Song: — 

Graciousness  is  the  perfume  of  the  beautiful  flower,  the  shining 
forth  of  the  inward  light,  the  tinting  of  rainbow  and  sunset.  It  is 
something  very  different  from  mere  politeness,  or  polish,  or  even 
culture.  It  is  simply  the  kindness  of  the  heart  made  manifest,  always, 
everywhere,  in  everything.  It  shows  itself  at  meal  time  in  the  tone 
and  manner  with  which  the  viands  are  accepted  or  declined;  in  the 


or  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


common,  every-day  greetings ;  in  the  treatment  of  equals,  inferiors 
and  superiors  alike.  There  may  be  graciousness,  too,  in  the  asser- 
tion and  performance  of  what  is  right,  or  the  rejection  of  what  is 
wrong.  Graciousness  is  loveliness.  It  speaks  the  truth  in  love.  It 
Sprinkles  its  sentences  with  gentle  words.  It  is  more  than  beauty  of 
complexion  or  feature.  It  is  the  most  attractive  charm  of  woman- 
hood. It  is  something  more  even  than  helpfulness.  Graciousness  is 
really  an  attitude  of  the  spirit — a  spiritual  attainment. 

A  BIRTHDAY  SONG. 

The  time  was  sad.    Cold  winter  pled 

For  fervid  pulse,  for  vivid  ray 

To  pierce  and  melt — e'en  though  it  shed 

Its  frozen  life  on  that  bleak  day. 

And  thou  didst  come,  a  summer  child, 

The  heat  of  southern  climes  aglow 

Within  thy  blood.    So  we  beguiled 

A  rose  to  bloom  amid  the  snow. 

The  snow,  will  it  not  chill  the  rose? 

The  thorn,  will  it  not  pierce  the  hand 

That  plucks  it?    Nay!    Within  thee  grows 

The  power  to  melt  the  frozen  band 

Of  ice,  and  bless  the  favored  hand. 

Thy  glance  is  warmth  and  musical  thy  voice. 

Thy  touch  is  balm,  and  flowers  enhance 

The  joy  of  all  thy  buoyant  steps. 

I've  seen  the  smile  flit  o'er  thy  face 

Like  wind  o'er  sunlit  fields  of  grain, 

And  thou  didst  beam  with  rich,  rare  grace 

Of  charms  long  lost,  but  found  again. 

So  from  this  day 
Be  thou  the  ray 
To  light  the  way 
Of  those  who  seek  for  Love's  pure  light. 
And  let  us  bind 
All  heart  can  find 
That's  true  and  kind 
^ -  In  one  strong  band  of  joint  delight. 

•  The  sad  task  devolved  on  me  of  answering  letters  di- 
rected to  my  son.  One  of  these  was  a  business  letter  from 
Mr.  Miiller  of  Mayer  &  Miiller,  Berlin,  from  whom  Ed- 
ward procured  his  German  books,  and  whom  I  had  known 
well  in  Germany.  His  reply  to  my  communication  is  here 
given : — 


508   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 

"Honored  Lady: — "Your  information  of  the  death  of 
your  son  struck  me  to  the  heart.  It  came  so  unexpectedly 
that  I  could  not  for  a  long  time  go  on  with  my  work. 

"You  know  best  what  your  son  was  in  character  and 
knowledge,  and  there  is  on  the  earth  no  one  who  loses  more 
than  the  mother.  But  his  friends  also  lose  in  his  kindness, 
in  friendship,  in  advice,  all  this  which  can  never  be  re- 
placed. I  dare  count  myself  in  the  large  multitude  of  men 
to  whom  he  was  kind,  and  my  thanks  go  over  the  grave. 

"Accept,  please,  my  full  condolence  for  your  loss,  which 
appears  to  me  is  scarcely  for  you  to  bear." 

My  home  during  all  these  sorrowful  days  was  at  Mrs. 
Nunn's,  where  I  was  in  an  atmosphere  of  kindness,  and 
where  I  was  constantly  receiving  letters  of  sympathy, 
Records  of  Memorial  services  and  Resolutions  from  va- 
rious societies  and  associations, — all  saddening  proofs  of 
my  loss,  yet  more  comforting  than  words  can  express. 

I  was  greatly  touched  one  day  by  finding  written  on  the 
corner  of  one  of  my  letters,  "With  the  postman's  warm 
sympathy."  All  the  years  of  our  Baltimore  residence,  he 
had  delivered  my  letters  at  the  house,  and  my  son's  at  his 
study.  It  was  a  pleasure  for  me  to  write  him,  expressing 
my  appreciation  of  his  thoughtfulness. 

From  Herbert  W.  Adams,  Professor  of  Sociology  in 
Johns  Hopkins  University: — 

My  Dear  Madam: — 

I  enclose  a  copy  of  some  remarks  which  I  made  the 
night  before  your  son  died. 

I  had  met  him  Saturday  afternoon,  Nov.  4,  at  the  rooms  of  the 
Charity  Organization  Society,  in  the  Wilson  Building,  North  Charles 
Street.  I  was  there  talking  with  the  secretarj',  Miss  Richmond,  about 
the  Parkin  Street  experiment  and  the  possibility  of  duplicating  it  in 
East  Baltimore,  when  your  son  came  in.  We  continued  the  conversa- 
tion for  some  time.  Mr.  Lawrence  mentioned  some  of  the  difficulties 
which  he  had  encountered  and  recognized  with  me  the  limitations  of 
such  social  work.  He  then  asked  for  some  information  from  Miss 
Richmond  concerning  the  work  of  the  dispensaries  in  this  citj'.  She 
told  me  that  Mr.  Lawrence  never  shrank  from  drudgery  or  details; 
others  found  it  easy  to  make  suggestions  and  plans,  but  Mr.  Law- 
rence took  hold  of  the  work.  • 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  509 


After  our  interview  with  Miss  Richmond,  your  son  and  I  walked 
up  Charles  Street  and  across  to  the  University,  where  he  bade  me 
good-by.  We  talked  chiefly  of  social  settlements,  as  I  stated  in  my 
remarks  to  the  Seminary.  We  also  spoke  of  his  call  to  Manchester, 
New  Hampshire.  He  said  it  was  manifestly  a  broader  field  for  social 
labor  among  the  working  classes,  and  that  he  was  going  to  look  over 
the  ground. 

Your  son  was  active  and  successful,  not  only  in  his  labors  in  con- 
nection with  the  Charity  Organization  Society,  but  also  in  his  street 
preaching  and  in  his  social  missionary  work  at  the  Parkin  Street  set- 
tlement. 

His  Modern  Missions  in  the  East  is  his  best  living  monument  until 
you  publish  his  Life.  I  wish  I  had  known  him  better.  He  was  a 
singularly  devoted  and  catholic  man.  His  range  of  interest  extended 
from  Baltimore  slums  to  the  redemption  of  the  world,  and  he  worked 
practically  with  pen  and  voice ;  with  deeds  as  well  as  words.  I  own 
some  of  his  best  books  in  Jewish  and  Church  History,  but  I  want  to 
have  his  illuminated  life,  and  to  see  his  soul  in  a  good  biography. 

The  continuance  of  the  Parkin  Street  work  and  its  extension  from 
Southwest  Baltimore  to  Southeast  Baltimore  was  the  last  subject  dis- 
cussed by  Mr.  Lawrence  with  me  as  we  parted  last  Saturday  after- 
noon at  the  door  of  this  University.  He  was  taken  ill  that  night  and 
early  this  week  was  removed  to  the  Johns  Hopkins  Hospital,  where 
he  submitted  to  a  surgical  operation  which  came  too  late.  There  is 
no  possibility  of  his  recovery.  It  seems  very  mysterious  ttiat  such  a 
useful  life  should  be  thus  brought  to  its  end. 

(Extracts  from  Remarks  by  Professor  H.  B.  Adams  to 
the  Seminary  of  History  and  Politics,  in  the  Johns  Hop- 
kins University,  Thursday  evening,  November  9,  1893): 

SOCIAL   SETTLEMENTS   IN  BALTIMORE. 

In  the  winter  of  1892-93  the  Rev.  Edward  A.  Lawrence,  pastor  of  the 
First  Congregational  Church,  established  in  Parkin  Street,  by  the  aid 
of  the  Christian  Endeavor  Society  of  his  congregation,  the  first  social 
settlement  in  Baltimore.  There  had  previously  been  a  great  many 
guilds  and  various  workingmen's  clubs,  organized  by  the  aid  of 
churches  and  private  subscriptions  for  the  encouragement  of  social 
and  educational  work  in  various  parts  of  the  city.  But  Mr.  Law- 
rence was  the  first  practical  worker  to  take  up  residence  among  the 
people  whom  he  proposed  to  benefit  by  his  personal  efforts.  He  took 
with  him  as  a  co-laborer,  Mr.  Frank  D.  Thomson,  a  graduate  of 
Knox  College  and  a  student  of  economics  and  history  at  the  Johns 
Hopkins  University.  Together  they  occupied  rooms  in  a  small  tene- 
ment leased  for  the  proposed  work.  There  in  class  rooms  were  gath- 
ered night  after  night  the  boys  and  girls  of  the  neighborhood  for  in- 
struction, healthful  entertainment,  and  pleasant  society.  Young 
people  from  Mr.  Lawrence's  church  took  turns  in  visiting  the  club 
rooms  in  Parkin  Street  and  contributed  to  the  success  of  the  experi- 
ment. 


5IO   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


The  following  is  the  substance  of  what  was  said  by  Rev. 
C.  C.  Creegan,  D.  D.,  at  the  Memorial  service  in  the  First 
Congregational  Church,  Manchester,  N.  H.,  Nov.  19th, 
1893,  the  date  fixed  for  the  first  sermon  of  the  Dr.  Law- 
rence, pastor  elect: — 

After  preaching  a  sermon  on  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul,  from  the 
text,  "If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again?"  Dr.  Creegan  said: — We  are 
a  congregation  of  mourners  to-day  in  view  of  the  departure  from  this 
life  of  our  dear  friend  and  brother,  Rev.  Edward  A.  Lawrence. 

Dr.  Lawrence  was  one  of  the  best  examples  of  a  pure,  high- 
minded,  thoroughly  consecrated  Christian  whom  it  has  been  my 
pleasure  to  know.  He  was  in  fact  just  that  kind  of  a  Christian  that 
many  of  us  have  as  an  ideal,  but  do  not  in  our  personal  experience 
reach.  I  recall  a  time  in  his  experience  when  a  great  trial  came  upon 
him,  a  trial  of  such  a  nature  that  many  of  us  would  have  been  par- 
alyzed by  it,  but  to  my  surprise  he  so  bore  up  under  it  in  the  strength 
of  the  Divine  IMaster  upon  whom  he  leaned  so  completely,  that  you 
would  hardly  have  noticed  from  his  appearance  that  he  was  passing 
through  an  affliction  at  all.  His  presence  in  my  home  for  a  year  will 
be  remembered  by  every  member  of  my  household  as  one  of  the  de- 
lightful experiences  of  our  lives,  and  I  could  not  feel  the  loss  more 
keenly  of  one  of  my  own  brothers.  I  do  not  believe  he  ever  entered 
a  home  for  any  considerable  length  of  time  without  proving  himself 
a  blessing  to  every  member  of  the  family. 

Dr.  Lawrence  was  of  distinguished  lineage,  coming  from  two  of 
the  families  well  known  and  highly  honored.  In  view  of  his  an- 
cestry and  his  own  literary  accomplishments,  he  could  have  taken  his 
place  among  the  exclusive  class,  but  he  chose  rather  to  live  among 
the  lowly  and  needy.  It  was  this  spirit  that  led  him  to  cast  his  lot 
among  the  poor,  and,  to  some  extent,  share  their  hardships  and  bur- 
dens in  the  city  of  Baltimore. 

Dr.  Lawrence  was  one  of  the  most  scholarly  ministers  of  our  de- 
nomination. With  excellent  early  advantages,  he  took  high  rank 
during  his  college  course  at  Yale ;  stood  among  the  foremost  in  his 
class  at  Princeton,  and  was  one  of  the  few  students  to  receive 
special  recognition  in  Berlin,  where  he  studied  for  several  years. 
Prof.  Francis  Peabody  told  me,  while  we  were  crossing  the  sea  to- 
gether, that  Dr.  Lawrence  ranked  as  one  of  the  first  students  from 
America,  according  to  the  testimony  of  the  distinguished  professors  in 
Berlin.  He  gave  evidence  of  literary  talent  of  high  order.  The 
articles  which  he  wrote  for  the  reviews  and  church  papers  during 
his  tour  around  the  world,  and  his  lectures  on  missions  delivered  at 
Andover,  Yale  Divinity  School,  and  Beloit  College  were  greatly  ap- 
preciated by  the  students  and  professors  in  these  institutions. 

Dr.  Lawrence,  while  invited  several  times  to  chairs  in  literary  in- 
stitutions, followed  the  decision  of  his  early  years  and  the  inclination 
of  his  sympathetic  heart  and  gave  himself  to  the  work  of  the  pastor- 
ate. His  preaching  was  of  the  scholarly,  but  at  the  same  time  thor- 
oughly spiritual  character,  feeding  the  thoughts  of  the  intellectual, 
and  at  the  same  time  being  easily  understood  by  the  unlettered.  It 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  511 

was,  however,  as  a  pastor,  that  this  pure-minded,  consecrated  minister 
of  the  gospel,  in  my  judgment,  did  his  best  work.  Many  to-day  who 
are  scarcely  known  to  the  community  where  they  live,  will  mourn 
the  loss  of  one  whom  they  looked  upon  as  pastor,  friend  and  spiritual 
guide,  one  who  came  to  them  in  their  hours  of  loneliness  and  sorrow 
and  brought  to  them  a  rich  blessing.  Earth  seems  poorer  to-day  on 
account  of  our  great  loss,  but  heaven  is  the  richer. 

Rev.  Mr.  Bacon,  for  some  years  pastor  of  the  Baptist 
church  at  Marblehead,  had  become  acquainted  with  Ed- 
ward when  he  was  at  home  on  his  summer  vacations.  He 
was  now  pastor  of  the  Baptist  Church  in  Manchester. 
What  follows  is  taken  from  one  of  the  papers  of  that  city. 

"On  Sunday,  the  subject  of  Mr.  Bacon's  sermon  was, 
'The  Coronation  of  a  Consecrated  Life.'  He  referred  very 
tenderly  to  the  rare  Christian  qualities  of  head  and  heart  as 
maintained  by  Mr.  Lawrence,  and  said  that  this  sudden 
blow  came  with  a  peculiar  sense  of  disappointment  to  him- 
self, as  he  had  anticipated  much  pleasure  from  his  con- 
templated settlement  in  Manchester." 


CHAPTER  XL. 


HE  NEVER  COMES. 

God  will  not  take 
The  spirits  which  He  gave  and  make 

The  glorified  so  new 
That  they  are  lost  to  me  and  you. 

— George  Klingle. 

Nothing  need  be  said  of  the  feeUngs  of  the  bereaved 
mother  on  leaving  Baltimore,  with  all  its  sacred  associa- 
tions, and  reaching  her  daughter's  in  Syracuse,  where  also 
memories  of  the  past  surged  upon  her.  A  sickness  fol- 
lowed, so  severe  that  it  seemed  as  if  it  would  be  very  easy 
to  slip  out  of  this  mortal  life.  But  I  had  a  very  strong  de- 
sire to  live  to  do  what  I  could  towards  carrying  out  Ed- 
ward's plans.  He  had  promised  to  revise  his  missionary 
lectures  as  many  had  urged,  and  it  fell  on  me  to  secure 
their  revision  and  publication.  The  cordial  reception  of 
this  book — Modern  Missions  in  the  East,  and  the  letters 
sent  me  about  it,  not  only  from  our  own  country,  but  from 
friends  and  missionaries  in  various  parts  of  the  world,  have 
brought  consolation  not  to  be  described. 

It  need  not  be  said  that  the  tribute  to  my  son  by  his 
Baltimore  friends  touched  me  tenderly.  On  the  walls  of 
the  church,  at  the  side  of  the  pulpit  where  he  had  stood 
Sunday  after  Sunday,  was  placed  a  beautiful  tablet  bearing 
the  inscription: 

EDWARD  A.   LAWRENCE.   D.  D. 

Served  his  Master  with  all  zeal  and  faithfulness  in  this 

PLACE  and  in  the  STREETS  AND  LANES  OF  THE  CITY 

FROM  June  qth,  1889,  till  November  ioth, 
1893,  WHEN  God  took  him. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


S13 


Comforting  letters  continued  to  come  to  me,  of  which 
three  or  four  follow: — 

From  Rev.  Joseph  B.  Stitt,  of  Baltimore: — 

I  very  greatly  esteemed  your  dear  son.  My  acquaintance  with  him 
began  at  the  meetings  of  the  Eclectic  Club.  His  rare  facility  of 
speech  without  special  preparation,  the  evidence  he  always  gave  of 
unusual  scholarship,  the  absence  of  everything  that  indicated  temper, 
his  genial  manners,  and  an  expression  in  his  eyes  that  told  of  sincer- 
city  and  soul,  made  him  a  favorite  amongst  us.  We  always  looked 
forward  with  special  pleasure  to  the  meetings  at  which  he  read  the 
essays.  His  last  paper  gave  us  an  insight  into  his  character  which 
was  a  revelation.  But.  after  all,  it  was  only  in  keeping  with  his  great 
love  for  his  fellowmen,  and  particularly  for  the  poor  and  unfortunate. 

Already  he  has  heard— "Well  done"  from  that  Saviour  whose  life 
on  earth  he  sought  so  earnestly  to  imitate.  The  "Inasmuch  as  ye 
have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,"  will  surely 
be  said  to  him. 

A  manlier  man,  a  truer  type  of  the  Christian  gentleman,  a  more 
self-sacrificing  disciple  of  Jesus,  an  abler  and  a  more  enthusiastic 
minister  of  the  New  Testament,  I  have  never  known. 

"Transferred  to  higher  service"  may  be  truthfully  said  of  him. 
"Therefore  are  they  before  the  throne  of  God  and  serve  him  day  and 
night  in  his  temple." 

From  Rev.  Dr.  S.  M.  Newman,  of  the  First  Congrega- 
tional Church  in  Washington,  D.  C. : — 

In  my  impression  of  your  dear  son  I  find  that  the  chief  elements 
are  not  his  abilities,  mental  and  otherwise,  though  they  were  great, 
not  his  actual  utterances,  though  they  were  always  helpful  and  saga- 
cious, but  they  are  the  profound  unity  of  his  mind  and  character,  the 
orieness  of  his  life  without  blemish  and  bias  or  vagary  of  any  sort. 

\¥e  have  spent  some  times  together  which  were  of  the  greatest 
value  to  me.  I  remember  one  night  when  we  roomed  together  at 
some  meeting  of  our  Conference.  I  shall  never  forget  the  way  in 
which  our  minds  began  to  kindle,  until  we  were  overflowing  with  fun 
and  good  fellowship.  Laughter  became  contagious,  and  repartees 
quick  and  effective.  How  pure  he  was!  No  doubtful  jest  mingled 
with  our  thoughts.  It  was  all  a  part  of  the  delight  of  God's  human 
servants,  unburdened  for  a  few  moments  from  their  toil. 

Then  the  talks  about  books  and  about  study.  How  I  shall  miss 
him,  miss  his  inspiring  help !  How  I  treasure  his  memory  and  re- 
joice that  I  have  known  him  !    I  hope  to  meet  him  by  and  by. 

From  Rev.  D.  M.  Beach,  formerly  a  pastor  in  Cam- 
bridge, Mass.,  now  in  Minneapolis,  Minn.,  March  8th, 
1894. 

I  never  met  Mr.  Lawrence,  and  especially  never  spent  any  pro- 
longed time  with  him,  without  reaping  great  benefit  to  myself,  partly 
by  reason  of  his  ample  and  intelligent  information,  which  he  knew 


514   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


how  tactfully,  and  in  an  interesting  manner,  to  impart,  and  partly 
hy  reason  of  the  fine  and  inspiring  temper  which  he  possessed.  We 
would  talk  over  wide  ranges  of  current  events,  and  would  enter  into 
the  highest  realms  of  thought  and  feeling.  All  this  was  to  me  a 
channel  of  the  greatest  delight,  as  I  think  it  was  also  to  him.  He 
was  one  whom  to  know  was  to  be  enriched  and  ennobled  by  the  very 
knowing.  I  have  had  friends  who  have  stood  in  somewhat  intimate 
relations  to  him.  all  of  whose  tesiimony  is  in  the  same  direction. 

He  had  the  greatest  interest  in  his  field  of  work  at  Baltimore,  and 
would  discuss  its  possibilities  with  the  enthusiasm  of  an  ardent  and 
}-et  chastened  and  earnest  nature.  He  was  especially  well  poised  in 
his  conception  of  current  discussions.  On  the  one  hand,  he  was 
thoroughh-  intelligent,  well  informed,  animated  hy  the  spirit  of  the 
time,  enthusiastic  for  the  new  light  and  life  dawning  upon  us ;  and, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  was  marked  by  a  noble  conservatism  of  tem- 
per, and  a  desire  thoroughly  to  balance  conflicting  claims.  He  ex- 
hibited, in  fact,  the  spirit  of  the  true  seer.  Not  henceforth  to  have 
the  opportunity  of  meeting  and  conversing  with  him  from  time  to 
time,  as  in  the  past,  I  count  one  of  the  deprivations  of  my  life.  A 
near  friend  of  mine,  who  was  a  specialist  at  Johns  Hopkins  while 
Mr.  Lawrence  was  at  Baltimore,  and  who  is  himself  one  of  the 
strongest  of  the  younger  literarj-  men  of  our  time,  has  convej'ed  to 
me  a  similarly  noble  mention  of  him  as  he  came  in  contact  with  him 
in  that  citj-. 

The  last  time  I  saw  Mr.  Lawrence  was  at  the  meeting  of  the  Amer- 
ican Board  at  Worcester,  last  October.  In  the  stirring  and  vastly 
important  debate  of  Thursday  morning,  at  that  meeting,  he  stepped 
modestly  forward  among  the  successive  speakers,  and  entered  a  plea 
for  a  noble  and  true  missionarj-  policj'.  His  attitude  was  that  of  a 
true,  earnest-hearted,  scholarly  and  devoted  pastor  and  preacher 
dwelling  on  such  a  theme.  I  took  his  hand  later  in  the  daj-  with 
warm  words  of  appreciation  for  what  he  had  said,  and  so  we  parted, 
— I  little  thinking  that  the  world  was  to  be  poorer  and  Heaven  richer 
so  soon,  by  reason  of  his.  to  us.  untimely  departure  from  among  hs. 
His  memorj".  I  am  sure,  will  live  among  all  who  knew  him  as  a  sweet 
and  inspiring  suggestion  of  what  it  is  given  bj'  Christ  unto  nobly  en- 
dowed humanity  to  be  and  to  become. 

In  various  matters  connected  with  these  reminiscences, 
I  have  found  Edward's  secretary,  or  what  he  called  his 
sermon  case,  of  great  service.  It  is  in  the  libran.-  at  Linden 
Home  near  his  own  standing  desk,  and  not  far  from  his 
father's.  He  planned  it  for  a  special  purpose,  and  it  is 
arranged  precisely  as  he  left  it,  shoA\-ing  what  a  life-work 
he  had  anticipated.  There  are  outlines  and  clippings  on  all 
sorts  of  subjects — humorous,  social,  aesthetical.  sociologi- 
cal, political,  practical,  historical,  theological,  ethical,  in- 
tellectual, moral  and  spiritual. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR. 


One  of  those  events  that  sometimes  come  unexpectedly 
to  mourners,  bringing  pecuhar  consolation,  occurred  early 
in  1898.  It  was  the  erection  of  a  tablet  in  memory  of  my 
son,  in  the  dear  Poughkeepsie  Church.  This  was  done  at 
the  suggestion  of  the  beloved  pastor  of  the  church.  Rev. 
W.  Herman  Hopkins.  The  fact  that  this  event  took  place 
fifteen  years  after  Edward  resigned  his  pastorate  there,  adds 
to  its  interest  and  significance.  The  following  account  is 
abridged  from  a  Poughkeepsie  paper: — 

Appropriate  services  were  held  in  connection  with  its 
erection  on  Sunday,  Jan.  i6th,  1898,  the  anniversary  of  Mr. 
Lawrence's  birth,  which  also  occurred  on  a  Sunday  in 
1847.  There  was  a  large  congregation,  and  Miss  Andrus, 
who  had  been  the  organist  during  Mr.  Lawrence's  entire 
pastorate,  played  his  favorite  selections,  opening  with 
Wagner's  beautiful  Pilgrim  Chorus,  and  closing  with  the 
Cujus  Animan  from  the  Stahat  Mater.  Letters  were  read 
from  Rev.  Dr.  Gladden  and  Rev.  Dr.  Lyman  Abbott. 
From  Mr.  Hopkins'  impressive  discourse  on  the  text, 
"Not  to  be  ministered  to  but  to  minister,"  only  the  last 
passage  can  be  given : — 

"We  welcome  this  tablet  to  our  walls  to-day  because  it 
bears  the  figures  that  tell  of  a  long  and  faithful  ministry, 
and  because  it  bears  in  larger  letters  still  the  name  of  a 
true  minister  whose  influence  will  always  be  with  this 
church,  and  following  in  whose  steps  we  shall  all  come  near 
to  Jesus  Christ." 

Behind  the  tablet  is  a  portrait  of  Edward.  The  tablet  is 
of  brass,  on  a  background  of  oak,  and  bears  this  inscrip- 
tion : — 

In  Memory  of 
EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  D.  D. 
Born  in  1S47.    Died  1883. 
1875 — Minister  of  this  Church— 1883. 
Not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister. 


5l6    REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


Most  cheering  was  the  tidings  of  the  formation  of  the 
Lazvrencc  Memorial  Association,  and  of  the  securing  in 
Winans'  Tenements  of  The  Lawrence  House.  And  on  learn- 
ing about  this,  friends  from  all  over  the  country,  and  from 
other  countries  as  well,  sent  contributions  to  help  in  the 
good  work. 

The  knowledge  that  this  tenement  work  which  Edward 
undertook  with  so  great  earnestness  was  meeting  with 
such  wonderful  success  brought  unspeakable  comfort.  He 
regretted  leaving  so  much  work  undone.  But  does  he  not 
know  how  his  cherished  plans  are  being  carried  out?  And 
does  he  not  rejoice? 

During  the  month  of  September  in  1899,  Rev.  Thomas 
Young  of  Ellon,  Aberdeenshire,  Scotland,  came  ta 
America  as  a  delegate  to  the  Pan  Presbyterian  Council  at 
Washington.  One  can  hardly  imagine  the  pleasure  it  gave 
me  to  receive  this  dear  friend  as  a  guest  at  Linden  Home, 
and  an  occupant  of  Edward's  room.  Just  before  sailing  on 
his  return  he  writes: — 

You  know,  of  course,  that  it  was  owing  to  my  tender  memory  of 
your  son  that  I  visited  Baltimore.  I  wanted  to  see  the  Lawrence 
House.  Unfortunately  I  was  too  early  in  the  season  to  find  the  work 
in  operation.  But  under  the  guidance  of  Miss  Nunn,  a  director  and 
devoted  worker,  I  was  shown  over  the  house  and  the  surrounding 
district.  It  quickened  many  thoughts  in  me  to  reflect  that  Mr.  Law- 
rence had  made  his  home  for  a  time  in  such  a  locality,  and  had  oc- 
cupied the  cramped,  humble  rooms,  which  were  pointed  out  to  me, 
in  order  that  he  might  learn  how  the  poor  live  and  how  he  could  best 
reach  and  help  them. 

I  saw  some  of  the  workers — fine,  intelligent,  cultured  men  and 
women,  and  I  saw  some  of  the  young  artisans  and  laborers,  as  well 
as  the  boys  and  .girls.  It  told  volumes  to  witness  the  eagerness 
with  which  they  asked  how  soon  they  could  come  to  their  evening 
classes,  and  the  respectful  affection  which  they  manifested  for  Miss 
Nunn.  Thomas  Young. 

From  the  last  reports  of  the  Lawrence  Memorial  Association  it 
appears  that  work  is  conducted  in  several  new  departments,  both  for 
boys  and  girls.  Calisthenics  and  gymnastics  are  taught.  There  is  a 
free  reading-room  and  a  circulating  library  loaned  by  the  Enoch 
Pratt  Public  Library.  Physical  training  has  been  added  for  the 
Boys'  Club.  A  savings  bank  has  been  the  means  of  securing  needed 
clothing.  Manual  training  work  has  been  extended,  and  scholarships 
and  business  positions  secured  for  boys.    Lectures  have  been  given 


THE  I.AVVRF.NtE  HOUSE. 

The  name  being  on  the  door. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  £17 

under  the  auspices  of  Johns  Hopkins  and  the  Woman's  College,  also 
by  church  pastors.  The  boys  have  given  several  successful  entertain- 
ments. For  girls,  the  work  of  the  sewing  department  has  been  put  in 
charge  of  trained  teachers;  the  embroidery  class  and  cooking  class 
are  making  progress.  An  entertainment  was  given  by  the  Johns 
Hopkins,  the  Woman's  College,  and  Glee  Clubs  for  the  Lawrence 
House,  and  the  proceeds  were  used  in  paying  house  expenses.  Pic- 
nics for  the  little  ones  and  electric  car  rides  into  the  country  have 
been  features  of  recent  work.  Basket  weaving  by  the  girls  has  been 
a  pleasant  addition  to  the  industrial  work.  Stories  for  the  little  ones 
and  instructive  talks  to  the  older  ones  have  been  given.  Potted  plants 
are  supplied  for  the  children  to  tend  and  raise. 

But  with  all  this  prosperity,  there  has  been  a  decided 
drawback.  So  many  girls  and  boys  have  been  turned 
away  for  lack  of  room,  that  the  conviction  has  been  grow- 
ing that  a  larger  building  must  be  secured.  In  the  Report 
of  The  Lawrence  House  for  the  last  year,  1899,  the  officers 
and  directors  say: 

"An  earnest  ef¥ort  is  now  being  made  to  raise  money  for 
the  purchase  and  equipment  of  a  house  suitable  for  the  use 
of  a  resident  worker  and  the  regular  classes,  including 
gymnastics  and  kindergarten  classes.  We  hope  to  raise 
$10,000  for  this  purpose  and  to  place  The  Lawrence  House 
on  an  established  footing  as  one  of  the  recognized  social 
agents  in  Baltimore." 

Later,  one  of  the  directors  writes: — 

"The  new  house  will  afford  abundant  room  for  the 
classes  in  sewing,  cooking,  drawing,  etc.,  and  for  the  social 
gatherings  and  the  boys'  and  girls'  clubs.  It  is  the  purpose 
of  the  association  to  put  upon  the  same  lot  a  building  suit- 
able for  the  kindergarten,  the  carpentry  classes,  a  boys' 
brigade  and  for  gymnasium  exercise,  and  adapted  also  for 
use  as  an  assembly  room  for  general  entertainments." 

It  is  a  peculiar  pleasure,  at  the  close  of  this  Memorial,  to 
state  that  with  a  few  generous  donations  from  those  having 
means  to  make  them,  and  with  small  contributions  from 
Edward's  friends  in  this  country  and  abroad  in  response  to 
a  statement  of  the  case,  a  sum  has  been  raised  sufficient  for 
the  purchase  of  a  greatly  enlarged  Lawrence  House,  not 


5l8   REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  WORK 


very  far  removed  from  the  present  location.  But  for  the 
proper  furnishing  and  equipment  of  this  enlarged  building, 
provision  was  to  be  made. 

At  this  juncture,  the  problem  has  been  providentially 
solved  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  all  concerned. 

This  leads  me  to  speak  of  a  coalition  recently  brought 
about.  During  Edward's  pastorate,  a  union  had  been  sug- 
gested between  the  First  Congregational  Church  and  the 
Associate  Reformed  Church,  also  Congregational,  of  which 
his  friend,  Mr.  Ball,  was  pastor  during  his  earthly  life.  Con- 
sidering all  the  circumstances,  this  union  was  favored  by 
Edward  as  well  as  by  some  of  the  church  members.  But 
the  time  was  not  ripe,  and  he  did  not  press  it. 

In  the  changed  condition  of  the  church,  however,  such  a 
union  was  urged  by  his  successor,  Dr.  Ballantine,  and  was 
advised  by  a  Council  called  for  the  purpose  of  consulta- 
tion. It  was  only  natural  that  many  should  cling  to  their 
church-home,  so  full  of  sacred  associations,  and  should 
strongly  object  to  leave  it.  But  putting  sentiment  aside, 
the  advantage  of  one  strong  Congregational  church  in  the 
place  of  two  struggling  ones  was  so  obvious  that  the  con- 
solidation has  been  accomplished,  and  as  the  result  is  the 
Associate  Congregational  Church,  of  which  Rev.  Mr. 
Huckel  is  the  efficient  pastor,  and  from  which  much  is 
hoped. 

To  return  to  Winans'  Tenements. 

The  Congregational  Church  building  is  to  be  sold,  Ed- 
ward's Memorial  tablet  being  transferred  to  the  united 
church.  The  Woman's  Association  presents  all  their  dec- 
orated cups  and  saucers  to  the  new  Lawrence  House, 
while  to  the  same  house  the  church  has  profifered  every- 
thing they  do  not  need  in  the  transition.  This  includes 
carpets,  a  piano,  clock,  book  cases  and  books,  chairs, 
tables,  dishes,  with  cooking  utensils,  a  gas  stove,  and  all 
the  paraphernalia  for  comfortably  furnishing  a  home. 


OF  EDWARD  A.  LAWRENCE,  JR.  S19 


Of  course,  my  mother-heart  could  not  fail  to  be  tenderly 
touched.  Everything  in  that  church  is  sacredly  associated 
with  my  son,  and  with  their  removal  to  the  Lawrence 
House  there  will  be  transplanted  the  precious  memories 
bound  up  in  them.  It  is  wonderful  providence  which  calls 
forth  the  warmest  appreciation  and  tears  of  gratitude. 

I  will  not  dwell  on  my  regret,  mingled  with  satisfaction, 
at  ending  my  sacred  though  sorrowful  task  with  all  the 
precious  memories  invoved.  I  cannot  find  a  better  close 
than  the  touching  yet  comforting  verses  which  follow: — 

Because  he  never  comes,  and  stands 

And  stretches  out  to  me  both  hands, 

Because  he  never  leans  before 

The  gate,  when  I  set  wide  the  door 

At  morning,  nor  is  ever  found 

Just  at  my  side  when  I  turn  round, 

Half  thinking  I  shall  meet  his  eyes, 

From  watching  the  broad  moon-globe  rise. 

For  all  this,  shall  I  homage  pay 
To  Death,  grow  cold  of  heart  and  say : 
"He  perished,  and  has  ceased  to  be; 
Another  comes,  but  never  he?" 
Nay,  by  our  wondrous  being,  nay ! 
Although  his  face  I  never  see, 
Through  all  the  infinite  To  Be, 
/  know  he  lives  and  cares  for  me. 

— E.  R.  Sill. 


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DATE  DUE 

UtU  9  \  \ 

P 

CAYLORD 

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